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mywonuderful · 2 years

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10 Year Love Pt. 1

Summary: What happens if your first love from 10 years ago, walks through the office doors and introduces himself as your new coworker as the two of your are working in the high school you both attended? You put up a front, pretending that you have never seen him as he seems to not recognize who you are. As high school days are retraced in your head, you try to push away the past feelings and stay professional as an adult, but you fail to realize your deepest thoughts, and memories that made you who you are today, because of him. Pairing: optional!male nurse x female!P.E teacher Genre: fluff, comedy, school life Warning: papercuts, cuts, wounds, heavy dialogue A/N: This was inspired by a manhua called Once More that I came across a couple days ago and I absolutely love the storyline and characters! The picture above is taken from the manhua they're so adorable I highly recommend you guys checking it out! Here are some pointers to avoid any confusion: Y/N and Y/L/N: you name and your last name H/N and H/L/N: his name his last name F/N and F/L/N: friend's name and friend's last name E/C: eye colour

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Scary, cold blooded, emotionless. Those were the characteristics linked to you back in high school. You were often found alone or away from the crowd. Your so-called “friends” only ever talked to you when they needed something from you, but even that was rarely ever. You’ve heard countless rumours about you which stressed you out at first, but as time went on, you became immune to it as it became a part of your daily routine. It was something that bothered you but something that you couldn’t fix. Yes you have broken a couple school uniform regulations and got into quarrels with other students but on your end, you were only trying to defend your classmates who were getting bullied, to only be the one to get in trouble instead. Your grade was playing basketball one day as you ended up falling and scraping your knee from your opponent’s attempt to try to steal the ball away from you. Normally, then this occurred, you would hear whispers of “she’s such a try hard” and “who is trying to impress? She’s a nobody here.” as you walked up to the nurse’s office but today, to your surprise, H/N L/N offered to walk you to the nurse’s office. He hurried to walk beside you before you glance over to see his charming smile. H/N L/N was the complete opposite to you. He was the school’s gentleman from his warm, kind and friendly personality. Everyone in the school adored him. You found it odd how he was single, turning down all the girls who confessed to him but at the same time, you felt jealous, quietly observing him from your desk during breaks as he happily chatted with his friends, teasing each other with jokes and laughter. You never got to experience that. He quietly walked you to the nurses office, knocking before sliding open the door to peek inside.

“Hmm, the nurse isn’t here.” He walked in as you hesitated, not knowing if you’re allowed inside without the staff’s permission. “Maybe she’s running errands.” he mumbled, walking over to the supplies. You took a seat at the bed nearest to the window, staring out.

‘Why is he here? Why did he follow me? What does he want from me? Is he here to tease me too?’ Your mind wandered, trying to find his true intentions before your thoughts disappeared hearing the first aid kit open beside you. Looking over, he kneeled down, opening the disinfecting wipes.

“I'm going to clean the wound, so it might sting a bit.” His voice was soft. He gently tapped the pad onto your wound, as the tips of his fingers would occasionally brush against your skin. You observed his soft H/C hair and how it was slightly messed up from the game. His long eyelashes that were naturally curled and his lips that were pressed, making sure he doesn’t put to much strength onto your injury. He suddenly looked up to see if you were in any pain when you locked eyes, his E/C staring into yours before the both of you looked away, flushed at the unexpected situation. You felt you cheek heat up as you tried to calm down the weird sensation in your chest, looking out the window, seeing the small figures of your class playing basketball.

“And you’re all set.” You saw your wound securely dressed and treated as you extended your knee, moving your leg around. “It’s obviously not as good as the nurse but this should do for now.”

“Thank you. You should become a nurse with this kind of skill.” You smiled and chuckled as he froze midway through his cleanup, taken aback by your brightened expression.

“This is the first time I've seen you smile." He muttered to himself as he stood up, returning the first aid kit. You stood by the window, watching your class play as the wind blew through the gap. He turned around, seeing your hair flow from the wind, your eyes watching from a distance as your lips curled into a small smile. Letting out a hopeless sigh, he quietly walks over beside you. He leaned against the wall beside the window, arms crossed as he continued to observe your features.

"I wonder why people say such rude things about you." You listened. "It must’ve been hard for you to hear them say such horrible things about you.”

“I’m used to it.” You felt the spring wind blow through your hair. “I don’t blame them. Some people can’t help but to judge a person’s outer appearance.” You knew trying to prove the rumours wrong would only cause more trouble on your side since you had no one to stand by your side to defend you. You have already accepted your defeat.

“Then what about me?” You felt his fingers against your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear that was in your face. Your eyes rounded as you turned to face him, meeting his charming smile. “Let’s be friends, Y/N. I want to get to know you. The real you.” The tingling sensation returned, but this time, your heart started racing. You felt the heat of your face spread across before you stepped back from him, covering your face with your hands. You left the nurse’s office, stomping your way back to your class as he ran out, following you behind with a huge grin on your face. As much as you avoided him after that incident, H/N stayed true to his words, trying to befriend with every opportunity he got. He would visit your class whenever you have different subjects during breaks, sit beside you during lunch, and visit your lockers to try striking a conversation with you. At first you were a bit creeped out and annoyed by his committed attempts but you found yourself letting loose around him as you got comfortable around him. Without realizing, your true personality started shining through as H/N got closer to you. You started smiling more, laughing more and talking more. It was something that H/N looked forward to everyday. It was his number one reason he went to school everyday; to see your face and you smile. For the first time in your years in high school, it was happy, memorable and exciting. Your personality became more lively, cheery and carefree since meeting H/N. He brought out the sides of you that you’ve been concealing all along and without realizing, you developed feelings for him.

You were in your last year of high school and you found yourself falling head over heels for H/N, but you didn’t want to confess and put such a precious friendship at risk. Regardless of that, the two of you remained best of friends, always teasing and joking on who’s the more childish one. He would always catch you off guard with his heart skipping compliments and actions, though you’ll explain to yourself that it’s just part of his personality. The rumours about you didn’t stop and instead, it seems like it only got worse. Rumours of you being two faced and fake to try to win H/N’s heart started speculating. When H/N found out about this, he was enraged at the fact that even when you start showing your true self, people still had rude things to say about you. He always reminded you that people who talk behind your backs are where they belong- behind you and for that, you always found yourself hearing his voice and those words when you felt insecure.

“College applications are just around the corner. Have you thought about what you want to study yet?” H/N sat beside you, head resting on the desk as he waited for your reply “Haven’t really thought about it yet.” You tapped the back of the pen on your lip, trying to come up with some options. “What about you?” “I’m going to study nursing.” He answered directly, watching your expression. You slowly nodded, feeling a slight disappointment that the two of you won’t be studying in the same field. “Someone mentioned nursing seems suitable for me, so I decided to give it a go.” Your eyes travelled down, seeing his sweet grin. “I have a suggestion for you Y/N. You should try going to teachers college and become a P.E teacher.” “P.E teacher?” You repeated. He lifted his head, nodding his head. “I can definitely see you as a P.E teacher. With your cool personality and your talent in sports, you’ll make a great P.E teacher.” He gave you a thumbs up before patting your head upon hearing the bell, returning back to his class. You thought about his words, trying to imagine yourself as a teacher.

‘P.E teacher. That’s not too bad.’ You thought to yourself. You ended up applying to a teachers college for physical education and much to your surprise, you got in. On your graduation day, you were heading back to your locker, clearing the last bit of your belongings when your phone vibrated with an incoming text message. ‘From H/N: hey Y/N. could you meet me at the rooftop after school? I have something to tell you.’ Your head starts racing with the possible thing you might need to tell you, causing you stomach to twist. At the last bell, you slowly walked up the stairs to the rooftop, a hand on the knob before you ran back downstairs, running away from possibly the one and only time you could’ve confessed your feelings, and they would’ve been reciprocated. H/N leaned against the railing of the rooftop, watching the student’s excitedly run out of school as summer holiday started. He saw you hopelessly walk out the doors, wiping your facing from what seemed to be from crying. He wanted to run down. He wanted to grab your wrist and stop you. But something inside him prevented him from doing that, and so, he stared at your depressing figure disappearing in a distance. From that day on, the distance between you and H/N started drifting as neither of you saw each other during college, too afraid to text each other and ask about that day.

-Present day-

"Where'd your get your shirt? It looks good on you." The student walked past you before stopping at his steps, nervously laughing. "R-Really? I got it over the weekend when I went shopping with my friends." He looked away, hand rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed. "That's cool. But can I give you another suggestion on what to wear?" He looked down at you, somewhat surprised. "Maybe try wearing your uniform. That'll be 5 laps around the track." You tippy toe to flick his forehead before his friends came running behind him. "C'mon Ms. Y/L/N. It's summer! How do you expect me to wear it in the summer?" He whines before zipping his mouth, seeing your darken expression. "Don't give me that excuse when our school offers summer uniforms." You scolded, seeing his friends playfully nudge and ruffle his hair from your lecture. You were standing under a tree at the entrance of the school, making sure students walked in with the appropriate clothing and appearance. "Good morning Ms. Y/L/N!" A group of female students respectfully bowed as they walked past you. "Good morning girls." You quickly scanned their clothing. "Lily!" You walked up to the girl, before fixing her skirt, flatting the part that was slightly flipped up. "Thank you Ms. Y/L/N!" She smiled before you nodded. "Oh my gosh, did you see how beautiful she looked up close? My heart just fluttered just now." You heard a branch snap behind you before you let out a sigh, knowing who was trying to enter the school without getting caught.

"Boys." They froze as you turned around, glaring at them. Usually, they're wearing anything but their uniforms but surprisingly today, they were wearing their uniforms. Or at least tried to. You placed your hands on your waist , feeling somewhat proud at the troublemakers’ attempt to follow school rules. "You boys are surely something else. If you're going to try to follow school policies, at least try to put some effort in it." You walked up the to boys, fixing each of their outfits before patting them on at back, letting them off as they walked pass the entrance. "Man, even her scolding makes my heart flutter." "How can someone be so cold yet warm at the same time? "I wouldn't mind if she scolded me daily." "She is the school's heart shaker" You heard the boys' conversation, shaking your heads from their silly comments. The students had named you the school's heart shaker ever since they witnessed your cold yet heartwarming actions. Maybe it's because you were a former student and having to teach in the school you attended, you couldn't help but to soften up at times, seeing your younger self in the students. But when it comes to your P.E class and school regulations, you were strict about it, from the trouble you've gotten into back in your high school years.

Entering the staff office, you heard your coworkers whispering about something. "Y/N, did you hear about this most recent news?" "If it's gossip, I rather not hear it." You sat on your desk, reviewing your notes for the day. "Apparently, we're getting a new school nurse! The previous one retired." You hummed an uninterested response, focusing on your work. "I heard he's young and handsome as well. I wonder when he's going to come." The principal gave a brief run through over the schedules and any changes that may possibly occur. The words enter through one of your ears and out the other, as you mumble to yourself, trying to remember your schedules and the class notes. "Psst, Y/N." Your coworker whispered before you shot up from your chair, assuming that the principal caught your distracted behavior. "Yes!" The office went quiet as all the eyes were on you, your coworker trying her best to hold in her laughter. Glancing down, you glared at her, mouthing a 'what?' "Great, you can show the new nurse around when he comes. Which should be any time no-" The doors slid open as you let out a small yelp from seeing a familiar figure. H/N L/N, the guy who you left hanging on the last day of high school, also known as your first crush. “Just on time, Mr. H/L/N.” the principal stands to introduce the new staff. “This is H/N H/L/N. Starting today, he will be the school’s nurse.” Your eyes followed his figure as he walked to the middle of the office, bowing. "I hope we can all get along." He smiled as your coworkers started throwing questions and compliments at him. "What a handsome young man!" "Are you sure he's old enough to be a nurse? He looks so young!" "How old are you? Do you have a girlfriend?" He chuckled at their comments. "I'm 25 years old." He answered, as the staff looked at each other with jaws dropped. "Looks like you and Ms. Y/L/N are the youngest ones here." He glances over you as you flinched from suddenly meeting his eyes

"Ms. Y/L/N?" Your back straightened from your name suddenly being called." Do you have something to say to Mr. H/L/N? You've been standing there this whole time." "N-No." You sat back down, hiding your face behind your notes. "Very well then. Mr. H/L/N, your desk will be beside Ms. Y/L/N. She will also give you a tour around the school during lunch break." The principal left at his final words. The bell rang as teachers left the office to their assigned rooms. "You definitely just fell head over heels for this dude." Your coworker whispered before you jerked your head up, about to curse when you hear a male beside you clearing his throat. "Um, Ms. Y/L/N-" "I better get to class! My students are waiting for me." You jumbled your papers together before standing up, walking at a brisk pace, leaving your coworker and H/L in confusion. 'He seriously had to come here out of all the schools? Does he recognize me? He shouldn't, right? Just pretend you don't know him and you'll be fine, Y/N' You tried gathering your thoughts as you walked to the field to your students. "Is Ms. Y/L/N alright?" H/N asks your coworker who was giggling to herself. "Yeah she's fine. You have to get used to her abrupt actions sometimes." She advised before leaving the room. "I know, I've already gotten used to it." He mumbled while looking out the window, watching you stomp over to the students. "Ms, Y/L/N! I heard there's a new school nurse! Is it a male or female?" The girls went up to you as you backed up from their close distance. "Male." "Really?! What's his name."

"Mr. H/L/N." "How old is he?" "25." "Is he cute?" "Why does that matter? You are going to purposely injure yourself so you can pay him a visit?" You crossed your arms, as they girls shook their heads in denial but you could see through them. "And why am I even telling you these things?" "You're no fun, Ms. Y/L/N. Can't you give us a little hope?" The girls nagged. "Dream on. Alright class, we're playing ultimate frisbee today!" You ended the conversation, starting the class.

-Lunch Break- "Looks like the P.E class is going overtime again." One of the staff declared while entering the office, stretching his hand over his head. "Ms. Y/L/N got herself in the game and now the kids are more energized than ever." "What do you mean?" H/N asked, glancing out the window, seeing you sprint across the fielding to catch the frisbee. "Whenever students have class with Ms. Y/L/N, they just don't seem to want to leave, even if it's lunch time. Especially if she starts playing, the energy level in the students just skyrockets." H/N exits the office, walking down the stairs to the doors to the field, watching you play with the students through the glass doors. You glanced at your watch, blowing the whistle to stop the game. "Alright guys, if you keep on playing, you're going to miss your lunch break! I'll take things from here so you guys are free to go. Have a good lunch everyone!" Hearing them whine, you chuckled, shooing them off as they rushed to the cafeteria. You saw them left before smiling to yourself, fixing your hair and started to pick up the equipment. H/N heart skipped a beat when he saw the bright smile of yours. He placed his hand on his chest, feeling it race. You wiped the sweat on your forehead before tossing the heavy bag over your shoulder, walking through the doors. "Ms. Y/L/N?" You jumped, letting out a squeal as you almost lost your balance before H/N got a grip around your arm, balancing you back. "Who creepily approaches someone like that?" "I was here for a while now," "That doesn't make it any better?!" You hid your face from showing such an embarrassing side. "Do you need something from me?" "Yes. A tour." Your lips circled into an 'oh' from realization. "Give me a second. Let me put away the equipment first." You dragged the bag before it was taken away from you. "Let me lend you a hand." You opened the doors of the gym storage room, pointing at the spot for the bag to be placed before you locked the door.

'Stay calm, act normal, it'll be alright. Just act like this is your first time seeing him and everything will be fine. Just get through this tour and you won’t have to interact with him later.' You reminded yourself as you twisted the lock, turning to face the tall male. "This is the gym and storage room. We have two gyms. One that's attached to the school and one that's in the back which is normally used for club practices." You pointed around as he quietly followed behind, looking around. "So the gym attached to the school is the main gym?" He asked as you nodded, walking down the hallways. "The first floor is usually where the grades 9 and 10 are. Turning right is the entrance to the cafeteria." He peeked through the doors, seeing the room full of students chattering and eating. "I heard the cafeteria has really delicious food." He comments as you turn to look at him. "It's what makes our school special. If you ever get a chance, you should definitely try the ___, it's my favorite" You smiled, feeling excited to eat it after the tour. 'I know. You used to eat it everyday for lunch.' He thought to himself, following you upstairs. "The second floor is usually for grades 11 and 12. Occasionally other students come here depending on subjects. Do you know where the nurse's office is?" He shook his head. You placed your hands behind your back, walking to his office when a couple of female students from earlier walked pass. "Good afternoon Ms. Y/L/N." "Good afternoon. Have you eaten lunch already?" They nodded as you smiled. Their eyes shifted to H/N behind you before switching back at you, smirks plastered on their faces. "Is that Mr. H/L/N that you told us about from the beginning of class?" You looked at the girls, eyes twitching. "Ah, you mean the new staff you guys asked me about? Yes. This is Mr. H/L/N." You forced a small grin. "I heard you're the same age as Ms. Y/L/N. Did you guys go to the same school?" "Hey! That's not very nice to ask Mr. H/L/N such questions on his first day, girls!" You panicked, trying to stop their plan before it gets out of hand. 'Please say no, please say no, please say no.' you prayed. "No no it's alright." He reassured, smiling at the girls. "I don't believe so." You let out a silent sigh of relief, without knowing that H/N was observing your actions. "Ms. Y/L/N is just showing me around the school." "Mr. H/L/N, did you know that Ms. Y/L/N is the school's heart sha-"

"Now now, students shouldn't loiter around in the halls." You pushed the girls to the opposite direction as they giggled to each other. "And Yumi! Button up your shirt!" You yelled before hearing "Did you see her blush? She's so cool!" echo down the hall. "What were the students saying just now?" "N-Nothing. Here's your office." You opened the door for him. He stepped in, observing the place before standing behind the window, looking out at the field. You felt your heart tingle from seeing his figure by the window, recalling that time when he helped you try your wound. "Ms. Y/L/N? Are you alright? Your face is a little red." He walks towards you before you quickly back up. "I'm fine! I'll if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get lunch." You ran off. H/N walked to the desk, sitting down before resting his head back on the chair. 'I didn't even get a chance to say thank you.'

-The following week-

You were finding every possibility to limit your interactions with H/N, trying to keep yourself distracted and busy, with every possible way. “Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N, do you know where the prin-” “Sorry, I have to go print some documents.” You stood up from your seat, walking into the printer room. Your coworker beside you, saw the suspicious interaction, rolling her chair over to the nurse’s desk. “I have to say, Miss. Y/L/N isn’t normally like this. So I don’t blame you if you’re a little flustered by her actions. I’ll go check up on her.” He kindly smiled at the female before her cheeks heated red, walking into the printer room. “Y/N, what’s up with you?” You flinched at her sudden voice. “You scared me there F/N!” You relaxed, seeing it was just her. “What do you mean?” “You’ve been acting weird ever since Mr. H/L/N started working here.” You punched the buttons on the printer. “Is there something wrong?” “It’s not that. Promise you won’t say anything?” Your coworker gave you a trusting bob. “It’s just that… We went to the same high school together.” You quietly spoke, afraid that other staff would hear. “What?!” She screamed before your hand whipped over her mouth, shooting her a glare. “Sorry, sorry. I wasn’t expecting this at all.” “Neither have I. This would be the last place I’ll expect to see him.” You spoke your thoughts out loud, inserting the documents before punching in the number of needed copies. “Do you think he recognizes you?” You shook your head furiously. “I don’t think so. The last time we saw each other…” You recalled the memory during your graduation day. “...was in high school. So it’s been years. But do me a favor.” You felt a weird tingle in your body from what you were about to say. “Could you not address me by my first name when we’re around him. I don’t want to take any chances of making him realize that we’re classmates.”

“For sure!… What if he came back because…” You pressed 1 and 0 for 10 copies. “He likes you and thought that you might return back as a teacher?” Your finger slipped and pressed onto the 0, making 100 copies. “Are you crazy?! Who in their right mind would come back for that?” You whispered yelled, glancing over at the screen before your eyes popped out, seeing the number of copies. “100 COPIES?!” You yelled before you and your coworker started to panic. “Why’d you click 100?” “I clicked 10 but YOU distracted me and I clicked the extra 0!” “I was only stating what could possibly be true!” “Stop talking nonsense and help me out.” You clicked the ‘cancel’ button before the printer finally became silent, only printing out a couple copies. You walked over to pick up the slot to gather the printed copies. “That was a close call.” You looked over at your friend, seeing her tense eyes on the screen. “F/N…?” The printer started running again, making loud whirring noises before sheets of paper started shooting out everywhere. It was too late to cancel the operation. “Y/N!” Your coworker yelled, as you hectically picked up the fallen and flying sheets as she clicked random buttons in hopes to stop the machine. “Oh my gosh, Y/N! It won’t stop printing!” She cried. After a couple minutes, the machine finally stopped, leaving the two of you heavily breathing.

“I’m so screwed.” You groaned, looking at the amount of copies in your hand. “What am I going to do with 100 copies?” “I mean you always manage to lose your papers, even when they’re on your desk so maybe having a few extra copies isn’t a bad thing.” She tried comforting you in the worst way possible. “I think we should go Y/N, Mr. H/L/N mentioned that he needed to use the printer- '' The both of you turned around being greeted by none other than H/N who was standing by the door, with a rather shocked expression. You started panicking, not knowing if he witnessed the embarrassing incident or your coworker calling you by your first name. “A-Ah, Mr. H/L/N! What a sight to see you here!” You mentally face palmed yourself from hearing your coworker attempting to speak as if nothing happened. “I was just checking up on Y/- I mean, Ms. Y/L/N to see if she’s alright with the printer.” She glanced back at you to see you pursing your lips, forcing a smile. She definitely can’t keep her promise. “I see. Do you mind if I use it after you’re done?” You nodded, stepping aside from him. Even though he was pretty confident that on the first day, he saw you and knew it was you, he was able to confirm to himself that it was truly you, Y/N L/N, his crush from high school that was his coworker. You walked over to the table on the other side, trying to organize the stack of papers. “You are so dead.” You grumbled lowly as she uneasily stood beside you, feeling guilty for breaking the promise. “It just slipped out of my mouth. It’s only natural to call my friend by her first name!” She whispered her reasoning as you rolled your eyes, letting out a sigh. “Wait Ms. Y/L/N, your fingers are bleeding!” You glanced down at your hand, seeing paper multiple paper cuts on your fingers and hand. It must’ve been when you were catching the flying papers. H/N turned back to see you stick your finger in your mouth. “It’s just a paper cut.” You mumbled with a finger in between your teeth. Holding the papers back to your desk, F/N worryingly follows behind.

“I don’t think paper cuts cut that deep onto your skin. Plus, there’s multiple of them! You should get them treated.” H/N couldn’t help to be worried about your state, knowing that you’re the kind of person who doesn’t like showing their weak side. Peeking out the door, he sees you wince, flapping your hand in the air to cool the pain. He wanted to step in and help but he had the feeling that maybe he should stay out of it. He quietly returned back to his seat, seeing you glance to his side as he sat down, causing you to straighten up your back from the tension. You keep yourself busy, scheduling class for the next couple of days and reviewing the upcoming ones. His eyes wandered to your facial features, seeing your play with your cheeks, puffing them and rotating the puffed cheek from one side to another. Your lips pressed together tightly into a thin line before pressing them outwards, alternating from playing with your cheeks and lips. He knew this was a habit of yours since high school whenever you’re focused. Seeing how your habits haven't changed made his heart warm up, knowing that this was something that he found adorable of you. You slowly turned your head towards him, feeling his eyes staring at you. His pupils widened, unexpected by the sudden eye contact before your face turned into a shade of red, realizing your habits haven been caught. “Sorry, this is what I do when I’-” “When you’re focused?” He finished the sentence for you before his mouth snapped shut, alarmed about how he might’ve exposed himself in front of you. Your jaw dropped by his sudden words. ‘How does he know? Does he… remember me?’ “Sorry, a previous coworker of mine had that habit whenever he’s focused.” He lied with a smile, praying you’ll fall for it. “O-Oh really? That’s interesting.” You chuckled awkwardly, turning your focus back onto the screen of your monitor. You laid a hand over your chest, feeling just how fast your heart was racing.

H/N was nervously fidgeting with his fingers onto top of his desk, not knowing he got away with pretending he didn’t know you. He tried distracting himself with filling in some documents and ordering supplies when his mind wandered back to your scratched fingers. ‘She should really put ointment or at least a bandage on them.’ He glances over at your hands, seeing the red cuts. Biting his lip, he pondered back and forth on whether he should check up on you. He is the school nurse after all, so it’s normal to care for his fellow coworkers, right? “Ms. Y/L/N, is your fingers-” “Hey H/N, wanna grab lunch together? I heard they updated the menu with new dishes!” A male worker shot up from his seat in front of him right at the bell. Your eyes looked up at him from hearing him call your name. “Sure.” H/N said after a brief pause. He glanced down, having the expression as if he wanted to ask you something but left with the male staff.

“Man, with this much paperwork, I would rather be teaching.” F/N leans back onto her seat, stretching her arms over her head. “Are you sure you don’t want to get them treated?” She looked at the papercuts. You shook your head, telling her that it's just a tiny scratch and that it’ll heal itself by tomorrow. “Shall we head for lunch then? It’ll be my treat today. I feel bad for what happened back there.” “As you should be.” You said matter-of-factly, feeling her hug onto your arm, trying to cheer you up. Walking into the cafeteria, there was a huge line formed by the students to get lunch. Getting a tray, you queued up with your friend. You spotted H/N and the teacher a few people ahead, having a conversation with a few female students lining up in front of them. “Ah, Ms. Y/L/N and Ms. F/L/N, do you want to go ahead of me? I’m actually waiting for a friend.” The male student offered. “No, it’s alright. Thank you though.” You kindly smiled, as the student blushed, looking down. “I mean, he offered it, so why not?” F/N whispered to only get nudged by you. “One curry chicken katsu please!” Your friend happily ordered once it was your turn. “And the usual for you, Ms. Y/L/N?” You nodded, giggling at the lunch lady’s question. The two of you sat at a table near the windows, enjoying your lunch in peace. “So how was H/N like back then?” You almost choked on your mouthful, hitting your chest to prevent the food going down the wrong pipe. “Were you and him good friends?” “You could say so.” “Then why didn’t you keep contact with him in college?” You remained quiet, feeling guilty about what happened that day. “...Did something happen?” “Not really…” You munched. “I’m not sure how he is now, but back then, he was really popular.” “That, I can definitely say, hasn't changed about him.” You followed her eyes to the table where he sat, eating with a table full of female teachers. “Didn’t you say that your high school years weren’t memorable or something?” “Yeah. It was only untilI met H/N. He was the light in my darkness.” “So you like him.” “I never said that.” “But you’re sure making it sound like it.” You scoffed at her words. You have to admit, you liked him in the past but after getting into teacher’s college, you only focused on your studies, forgetting about H/N. “It’s just weird. Seeing your classmate as your coworker working together in the same school you used to attend.” “Maybe he has a reason.”

- 2 days later -

“What a surprise.” You entered the office, eyes still half awake from your lack of sleep. You slumped down on your chair, taking out a box of bandages. “Are you actually going to use them or are they going to end up being your desk decor?” You narrowed your eyes at F/N’s statement. “You do know the nurse’s office has bandages, right?” “Yeah but…” You haven’t been sleeping well for the past couple of weeks, unable to wrap around the fact that H/N is actually your coworker. You tried searching answers for why he possibly could come back, but nothing would come into mind. “It’s because of him isn’t it.” Letting out a groan, couldn’t help but to chuckle at your childish acts. “Are you scared of the room or him?” “Both? I don’t know.” Opening the box, you took out a couple of bandages, placing them on your cuts. “I didn’t know papercuts take this long to heal.” “I didn’t know someone could be so bad at using bandages. Plus, I told you, papercuts don’t cut that deep into your skin. Why didn’t you treat them either? Imagine all the bacteria that has gone into your wound for the past few days! You could get an infection!” “You sound just like my mom and it’s scaring me.” You shivered, recalling her words in your mother’s tone. After finishing with wrapping your cuts, you left for your first class. Due to the heatwave, you decided to move your P.E class indoors to prevent anyone from getting heat strokes. “Alright since we’re indoor today, we’re going to be playing volleyball.” The class whined and complained. “I’ll be treating the winners for ice cream.” The gym was filled with shouts and cheers from hearing the reward. Splitting the class into a couple of teams, you and a couple of students went to set up the nets.

“What happened to your hand?” A male student asked, pointing at the bandages. “Oh, just a minor cut.” “No I mean, did you wrap that or did Mr. H/L/N?” “Oh… I did. Why?” You felt your cheek heat up from humiliation “You can obviously tell it’s not Mr. H/L/N’s wrapping.” You hissed at the other classmate’s comment before he ran off, teasing you. “Mr. H/L/N is really good at wrapping wounds. I scraped my elbow the other day and he wrapped it so well that even when I move my arm around, it doesn’t loosen!” You were suddenly reminded about his gentle touch when he helped you treat your injured knee. “Ah, I see. He is the school nurse after all.” “Maybe you should ask him to help you with your cuts.” “No! I mean, I already have bandages on so it’ll be a waste to throw them away now.” “Not to be rude or anything, but it’s already a waste from how you place them on.” “Hey!”

“6 vanilla and chocolate twists on a cone please.” The students behind were happily cheering as you paid for their desserts. “Thank you, Ms. Y/L/N!” They chimed in unison. “No worries. Stay hydrated and get home safely.” You headed upstairs, stopping by to see if F/N is still in her class before heading back to the office. You saw someone holding a box filled with calligraphy equipment as they hastily stumbled. “Shit shit shit shit…” You heard a familiar voice. “Ms. F/L/N?” Her panicked face relaxes upon your appearance. “Is something wrong?” “You’re a lifesaver. I just remembered I have a meeting to attend about the upcoming class event with a few teachers so could you help me bring these to the art class and make sure everyone gets a brush, ink try and calligraphy paper! Oh and be careful with the ink, the bottle isn’t closed properly.” She thrusted the box to you before taking off down the stairs, shouting her gratitude. You stood there dumbfounded before slowly wobbling your way to her class. Setting the box down, you went around each desk to hand out the brushes. You went back to take out the ink bottle, struggling to twist the cap open

“Not closed properly? More like closed too properly.” You gritted your teeth, twisted the cap before it pops open, spilling some ink on your hand. “Shit!” You cursed loudly before you heard the door burst open. Slowly turning around in fear that the principal heard, H/N rushed over, surprised and puzzled when he saw your face. “Ms. Y/L/N? What are you doing here?” He looked down to see the scene. “Ms. F/L/N needed some help so I offered to lend a hand.” He went to get some wet paper towels to wipe the ink on the floor. You walked over to the sink to wash your hands, sighing to see that the ink stained your bandages. Walking back, you saw Mr. H/L/N pouring the ink onto the ink pallets. “Thanks.” You laid out papers on each desk before carrying the box onto the side, walking out with him. The two of you walked in an awkward silence. You didn’t know what to say and you couldn’t tell if it’s because you have nothing to say or too much to say. “I heard the heatwave is going to last until next week.” He placed his arms behind his back. You let out a “mhmm” before raising your hand to wipe the sweat on your forehead. “Are those rings?” You looked down at your hand, seeing your bandages stain into black.

“No, these are bandages. The ink must’ve stained them.” You chuckled, feeling more sweat build up as you saw him observe them. “Well then, if you excuse me.” You stepped to leave but he got a grip of your wrist. “Come with me.” Not letting go of his hold, he pulled you into his office. He loosened his grip, walking over to get the first aid kit before taking a seat at his desk, dragging a stool out in front of him. You stood by the entrance, feeling your heart pound. It was just you and him. In the room. Alone. Together. Almost 9 years ago. “What are you waiting for? Take a seat.” You timidly walked over to the stool, avoiding his eyes as you sat down. “May I take a look?” You raised your hand, slightly flinching as you felt his familiar touch. “Sorry, did that hurt?” You shook your head, feeling the head spread across your face. He gently took off the bandages as you glanced and saw his worried expression, just like when he was younger. “Ms. F/L/N was right, papercuts don’t cut this deep.” He spoke to himself as your eyes widened in realization that he heard your conversation with your coworker. He applied some ointment before wrapping them tightly. “Why didn’t you stop by? I could’ve helped you treat them.” “It’s nothing serious.” You answered, looking down at the floor.

“Are you sure?” Your head lifted from his change in tone, meeting his eyes. “Are you sure it’s not something else?” “I don’t know what you’re saying.” “Why are you avoiding me?” You tried to think of an excuse. “I wasn’t.” “Every time I tried to talk to you, you’re always excusing yourself.” “I wasn’t.” “Then what were you doing?” “I…” You trailed off, lost at words “You can’t fool me.” He started. Your eyes shifted to look at his. “Even after all this time.” He rolled his chair closer to you. “You’re still the same to me.” He reached to tuck a strand behind your ear. “Y/N L/N.”

next>>

#optional bias #optional bias fluff #optional bias scenarios #optional bias fanfic #optional bias kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scnearios #optional bias au #once more #seventeen scenarios #the boyz scenarios #cravity scenarios

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headintheclouds-posts · 10 months

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You’re lay on your front in bed, body tired from a long day. Your head tilted to one side to look at the man you love, his eyes drowsy as he slowly succumbs to the comfort of the mattress.

Though tired himself, his large warm hand rubs gently across your shoulders in rhythmic motions and he mutters loving words in a voice barely above a whisper.

Utter bliss is all you feel right now, the calming comfort of your cozy bedroom causes your brain to let go of todays worries. The moonlight cascades in through the large palladian window, painting the room in the cosmic colours of the sky, whilst the pitter-patter of rain lightly taps against the window, almost too quiet for you to hear.

You move you body to lay facing him, which causes his muscle memory to move into gear, pulling you into his chest so his nose is pressed into your hair coaxing a happy sigh to fall from his lips.

Love resonates inside this home and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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multidxni · 2 years

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Optional bias x reader fluff

✨

"Babyyyy..."

"Hmmm?" He answers, not taking his eyes off the sheets in his lap.

"Don't you want to take a break??" I say and massage his shoulders.

I feel him sighing and relaxing under my touch.

"Baby, I need to finish these." He smiles at me, but he looks tired.

"You're so hardworking babe." I smile, brushing his hair back.

"And you notice this now?" He smirks.

I find myself giggling kissing his dimples.

"Yah, you're actually distracting me!" He makes a shocking face as he realizes.

I pout then laugh. "I'm sorry you're just cute when you're concentrated like this... You look like a baby."

He scrunches his nose as his adorable dimples appear.

"Ahh y/n, you do this on purpose!" He complains and places the sheets on the table, too flustered to go on with his work.

Our eyes meet as I sit on his lap. "I love you." I bow to kiss his forehead. "But I think you know it too well already."

"I love you more my girl." He pulls me back as we fall on the couch laughing.

He gets closer to me, or noses brushing each other and foreheads touching.

"I love you so much." He whispers, his breath hot on my lips.

My fingers tickle his cheek and the next second our lips connect in a soft, loving kiss.

Our fingers intertwine, as he holds one of my hands.

His other hand travels down my waist, pulling my body closer to him. There is no more space between us at all.

As we pull apart to catch our breaths, his eyes flicker with thousands of emotions and I loose myself into the way his face turns red and he chuckles.

"What?" He says shyly.

I'm sure my face is even redder than his.

"Nothing... I'm happy." I answer.

And I am.

Happier than ever.

✨

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synthetickitsune · 2 years

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KinkFlufftober prompt #31: Aftercare | optional bias | 0.7k words ❧ Kinktober masterlist

Drifting somewhere on the edge of consciousness, you fight to stay awake and present. You need to, at least until he comes back. You snuggle further into the soft blanket, rubbing your face against the fabric where his scent lingers. The soft music playing in the background threatens to lull you to sleep, as does the warmth that envelops you. You’re worn out, body sore and begging you to just let it rest. You don’t give in to the temptation though.

“Still awake?” your lover chuckles as he comes back. You feel his hand gently squeeze your shoulder in the next second.

“And if I wasn’t?” you hum back, smile tugging at your lips.

“I’d need to wake you up anyway,” he says softly, stroking your cheek, “You need to drink something at least. But I brought snacks too if you’re hungry.”

He laughs softly as you curl closer to him, resting your head on his thigh. It feels like bliss, closing your eyes and simply taking in his soft touches and the comfort of his presence. His fingers trace down to your neck, ghosting over his marks painting your skin. They look so pretty - you look so pretty wearing them. He can’t resist leaning down and kissing over them. You squirm, giggling, his lips tickle your sensitive skin.

“Cute,” he whispers, pressing one last kiss to your temple, “But you still need to drink, come on.”

He helps you sit up and rest your body against his. You snuggle closer, taking your revenge by attacking his neck with your lips. He unscrews the lid off the bottle without rush, smiling at your lazy kisses. His heart feels full at your attention. Although he wanted to be the one to take care of you, maybe he also needed some reassurance. He wouldn’t forgive himself, though, if he didn’t entirely focus on you after the intense round after round he’s put you through. Still, this feels nice.

“Love, come here,” he coos at you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You cling to him, and he doesn’t have the heart to push you away. It tugs at his heart how much you want to be near him. “Just a little sip. Then we can lay down and cuddle all you want.”

That does the trick as you allow yourself to be persuaded and let him guide the water bottle to your lips. You take a few gulps, only now realizing how thirsty you were. The cool liquid feels so good as it pours down your throat, it’s almost addicting.

“Told you so,” he whispers teasingly as he screws the lid back on and puts the bottle away. You pull him down, cuddling up to his chest immediately. His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer.

“Needy, aren’t you?” there’s a smile in his voice. Even as he says so, however, he nuzzles into your hair. He’s wrapped around you just as tightly as you press yourself into him.

“Aren’t you?” you purr, lips attaching to his skin again, suckling along his collarbone. He cards his fingers through your hair, not stopping you in the slightest.

“I just like holding you close,” he admits softly, “It feels like I forget to in… well, in the heat of the moment I guess.”

It makes your heart flutter and you pause, pulling away just slightly to look him in the eye. You cup his cheek and try not to smile too wide when he leans into your touch.

“But you don’t,” you reassure him, stretching your neck to plant a soft kiss to his lips, “I know that you love me even if you get rough. And I love you too. And I love how gentle you are with me afterwards.” You drive your point home with a kiss after each sentence. When you’re finished, he’s smiling fondly at you and kisses your forehead in return.

“Always,” he confirms as he pulls you even closer and pulls a blanket over both of you, “Sometimes I think I might be enjoying this more than anything else.”

You shake your head with a giggle. Then again, he might be right. This does feel like heaven.

“Sleep now, I got you,” he says, stifling a yawn himself. For the last time today, you obey his order.

#kinktober 2022 #optional bias #drabble #fluff

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ateezworlds · 2 years

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little bit of bedtime fluff, inspired by a dancer i like but i left it male optional bias. reader isn't explicitly female but has long ish hair. enjoy!

‐---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"No. Leave it down." His wrist grabs my own softly, halting the claw clip halfway to my hair in its motion. My hair tumbles free from its unsecured makeshift bun, framing my face and shoulders messily - it already feels annoying, the sweep of my bangs guaranteeing the lack of peace I'd have trying to fall asleep tonight with my hair in my face.

"But you know my hair gets tangled at night if I don't braid it... " I trail off and look up, seeking out my lover's face in the dimly lit room. The late hour does us no favors as we get ready for bed - I have to squint a little to distinguish my lover from the night swirling around him. I am met with warm brown eyes - so intense that his gaze sears into me. My eyebrows raise in question - I tie my hair up before bed every night, and he's never quite raised protest before.

"I don't think I've said this before but - waking up with you in my arms, and my face buried in your hair - I just don't know how to explain. The smell of your shampoo when your head is tucked into my neck, the faint brush of your hair against my jaw, the curve of your body pressed into mine - every single morning I realize all over again that there's nothing in the world I'd rather wake up to each day. Could you sleep with your hair down tonight, my love ?" He speaks with his mouth against my temple, and I feel the heat of his words, feel him speak his love into my hair.

His eyes have fallen to the inch of space between us on the bed, flitting from the edge of the pillowcase I rest on to the plush quilt covering our waists waiting for my reply.

His name falls from my lips in a sigh, and my hands drop the clip I was holding in favor of cradling his face instead, pulling him down so he is level with me. Our noses brush, and his hands still brace my wrists with the gentlest of holds. I feel each of his soft breaths against my own mouth and tilt my head ever so slightly, letting my fingers graze the barely there stubble of his jaw.

His gaze darts back up to meet mine - tentative, shy almost, but I watch as he finds the answer he's searching for in my eyes. I let him close the sliver of distance between us, brushing his mouth against mine as his hands slip into my curls- letting him hold me to him with his hands tangled in my hair.

#fluff #ateez fluff #bedtime fluff #optional bias #gender neutral insert #stray kids #ateez x reader #stray kids fluff #smf #poetry #love #bedtime #optional bias drabble #optional bias fic #optional bias imagines #imagine #ateez reactions #ateez reader #stray kids reader insert

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proudahgase-exol · 7 months

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Other K-pop masterist

Here you will find other K-pop groups I will be making stuff for if you would like to see a specific group/Idol in specific let me know by requests or private message and I’ll happily make doodle them I’m open to write for female groups too :)

-𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎: 02/02/24

-𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 ♡

Eveything was moved to the main masterlist ☺️

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙙𝙨

𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣:

𝘚𝘯𝘢𝘱𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯

𝙃𝙮𝙪𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙣:

𝘔𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

𝙎𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙜𝙢𝙞𝙣:

𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

𝗢𝘁𝟴:

𝘙𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘬𝘻 𝘣𝘧

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

𝙏𝙓𝙏

𝙔𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙟𝙪𝙣:

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗲𝗲

ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ :(

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𝙎𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣

ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ :(

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

𝘼𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙯

𝙎𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

𝙊𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙡 𝙗𝙞𝙖𝙨

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐’𝘮 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨

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lavenderkiyoko · 2 years

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𝟏𝟖:𝟐𝟑

▸ Pairings: it's not a reader insert, more of just two characters that aren't specified. you can imagine any relationship, may be platonic or romantic but no incest and shit

▸ Genre: fluff

▸ Warnings: could seem as if allusions to death are being made. Depends on one's interpretation of the fic

▸ A/n: inspired from the movie - the handmaiden, so it has some references to it. I wrote it with a sapphic relationship in mind but as I said above, everything is gender neutral so any type of relationship may be assumed.

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

The flowers in the large garden swayed gently with the pleasant spring breeze. Not too warm, not too cold, the weather was just the perfect balance. The sun peeked from behind the lush green leaves of the tall standing trees that provided a cool shade from the sun.

Two figures walked down the path in the garden, holding each other's hand with a soft grasp while carrying baskets filled with food in the other. The only sound being audible in their surrounding was of the flowers and leaves dancing with the wind, the man-made stream in the garden and the dried leaves that fell on the path, making a crunching sound as the two figures walked on them.

There was no need for words between the two, but the silence didn't bother them as they basked in each other's presence, seemingly not caring about anyone else at that moment, just savouring the moment they had to spend with each other.

Arriving in an open space surrounded by baby's breaths flowers, the two figures settled under a Japanese black pine tree, setting up their baskets as they took a moment to appreciate the scenery in front of them, continuing to hold hands.

Turning to look at each other, soft smiles adorned their faces as they stared at each other with a soft gaze, before taking their hands away as they opened their baskets and ate the snacks they had prepared in comfortable silence as there was no need for any words to converse.

They didn't need anyone else. They had each other, and that was enough for the two. Just the two of them together and alone against the others.

Once again holding each other's hand, the two figures sat closer, resting their heads against each other as they cherished the time that they now had with each other, just gazing in the far distance with nothing to disturb their peace.

With the weather being pleasant, the tree above them providing cool shade, the sun glowing warmly in the sky as the only sound audible was of the leaves bustling with the wind and a few insects, the two figures slowly drifted off from consciousness in the comfort of each other's presence.

The world was long forgotten as the two finally got the chance to sleep peacefully together. They didn't need to worry anymore about anything else; something that seemed impossible in the past.

Because now that they had each other, everything would be fine...

#optional bias #optional bias imagines #platonic #fluff #the handmaiden #inspired from the handmaiden #kpop optional bias #kpop imagines #aouad imagines #girl group imagines #girl group optional bias #optional bias au #ivyy writes

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lixie-phoria · 5 months

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ੈ✩‧ ➛ han jisung thinks he's subtle as he pines over you

pairing : han x gn reader ; genre : fluff | warnings : none ; word count : 0.8k words

summary : han jisung couldn't be more subtle as he pined after you. ranging from eagerly buying your merchandise to watching your favorite shows just so he has more reasons to talk to you. it would've been adorable if it hadn't been going on for so long.

if there was one thing han jisung would never judge overly zealous kpop stans for, was their passion. Never for the way they would viciously defend their bias or spend an unnecessary amount of money when trading photocards. He would never question their excitement. He couldn't. Not when he was on the same boat as them.

You were a rookie idol, so new to the world of kpop, so full of life and love for what you did, never letting the fame get to your head. Nobody could blame han for falling for you, really. The poor boy was so in love it was comical. He thought he was subtle with the way he was always steaming your music and buying your merch. He thought nobody would notice the secret fan account he ran for you on Twitter and Instagram. Han jisung thought he was a mastermind for the way he "skilfully" kept his crush a secret. But the boy could fool absolutely nobody, not his members nor yours. yes things were hard because of JYPs dating ban for rookie idols but did that stop him from being delusional? absolutely not.

the members caught him multiple times giggling to your instagram posts or marveling at your vocals during a performance. it was like watching a teenage boy fall in love for the first time, complete with the dreamy sighs and feet kicking.

when changbin caught jisung eagerly watching a show in their dorm early one morning, he wasn't that surprised. but when he found out it was a romance show? that raised a few questions because nearly everyone knew han was more of a horror lover. that was until the older man found out the shows name. of course han jisung was watching the show you had recently revealed in an interview you were obsessed with. the excited grin on his face and slight furrow between his brows as he concentrated on the plot would've been adorable if changbin hadn't been so exasperated. This was the seventh k-drama jisung was watching for you. just so he could find more reasons to talk to you, as if he didn't spend nearly half his time texting you either ways.

"Enjoying the story, han?"

of course han hadn't noticed changbin walk into his room. not when he was dutifully remembering every moment playing on the screen so he could talk to you about it later.

"yeah it's a nice show."

"i bet the person who recommended it is real nice too, huh?"

"hyung!"

changbin wished he could take a picture of the blush spreading across jisung's face and down his neck and send it to you with a message in big bold letters reading THIS MAN IS IN LOVE WITH YOU PLEASE ACKOWLEDGE HIM!!! but jisung would go wild so he chose the safer option of leaning again the younger boy's door frame, a teasing smirk playing at his lips.

"do you like this show better than the one you finished watching last week, which was also recommended by y/n?"

"i am not watching these shows just because y/n likes them."

"oh ok, so you're not going to text them about this episode the instant you're done watching it?"

"nope."

"good! so you don't mind if i text them about it instead? because i just finished the show last night."

it was a lie, obviously, but han was immediately scrambling up from his position on the bed, trying to convince changbin against it while trying not to blow his cover.

"just tell them you like them, jisung, y/n's not gonna avoid you for it."

"chan hyung just finished teasing me about this too, please don't start again."

changbin wished he could record han whining his denials too, because he couldn't believe how whipped someone could be.

that was until jisung's phone vibrated with a notification, and his disbelief only grew as he watched his member's eyes light up. jisung kept only your notifications on, so it was obvious who had texted him. all thoughts of changbin were forgotten as jisung eagerly read whatever you had sent, typing back his response immediately, earning a snort from changbin. jisung was known among their friend group for being a ghoster, but of course he was texting you back immediately. changbin knew he wasn't going to get any more responses when han didn't even look up from the screen.

"you better confess soon or im going to text them from your phone one day."

"you wouldn't dare!"

"i most certainly would."

changbin cackled as he left the younger boy shouting indignantly from his room. he knew the seven of them would breathe a sigh of relief only when han finally came clear to you about his feelings. until then, all they could hope for was the boy mustering the courage required to do so quick.

©lixie-phoria, 2023

tags : @lethallyprotected @dreamingaboutjisung @selcayuri @bangchansbae @aak22 @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba (send an ask to be added/removed!)

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littlesunnypepper · 2 years

Text

In This Life...

tw: mention of death ig? // miscarriage

word count: 3379

a/n: this is the first time I'm posting something like this (an imagine? a scenario? idk) so please criticize lightly. my soul is fragile. 🥺

"What if..."

"Yeah?"

"What if I died first? What would you do? How soon until you get married again?"

"What kind of morbid topic is this? Is this how you normally spend the eve of your first wedding anniversary?"

"How would I know? You're my first husband."

"And I better be the last." He said before he left a tiny peck on the tip of your nose.

Being married to your bestfriend was one of the best decisions you have made in your entire life, that you can proudly say. You were so compatible, it was like you were two halves of one soul.

He was your home. He was the love of your life.

"Happy anniversary!" He shouted as he extravagantly threw confetti upon himself which caused you to giggle.

"You better clean that up. You're so extra sometimes, you know."

"Why? I can't?" He pouted at you. "It's not everyday we get to spend 10 years of being husband and wife."

"Yeah. 10 years. Time passed so fast, didn't it?" You said wistfully. He caught your tone though and immediately he wrapped his arms around you. The tears that threatened to fall disappeared as quickly as it came as you breathed in his scent.

You found out you were pregnant on your second anniversary. You were both over the moon about it but the happiness soon ended when you miscarried five weeks later.

You kept trying though but two more miscarriages after, you stopped trying. The grief was too much for you to take and he has supported your decision and was there for your every breakdown and every shortcoming. He has loved you since your first date and he has loved you even more as you wept in his arms, saying goodbye to the babies that weren't to be yours.

You overcame the mourning but it stings every now and then especially more during your anniversary as you remembered your first angel. He understood your pain and you loved him more for it and for choosing to stay, with child or not.

"I smell the roses. How much did you buy this time? The florist will be so grateful for your patronage." You joked as you went to the dining room, hand entwined in his.

"Enough, I'd think. But everyone keeps looking at me weird as I went home."

"Yes, well... I guess it's not everyday they see a man carrying what, three dozens of roses?"

"More, actually."

"MORE?! That explains it then, the weird glances. You didn't have to go that far, honey."

"I would've bought the entire shop if I could. You deserve it, my heart. You deserve nothing but the best."

"I love you." You said, looking at him with eyes full of emotions.

"I love you. Happy anniversary." He replied as he leaned closer and tenderly kissed you on the lips.

You were blessed to spend enough time with him in this life and although you wanted more, you have regretted nothing as you laid on the hospital bed holding his hand. It was almost time for you to go, you can feel it with every breath you took. He knew it too.

"This reminds me of our first anniversary."

"What about this reminds you of that?" He asked.

"I'll be the first to go. How soon until you remarry?" You asked as you managed to slip a little smile.

"50 years of being your husband, I don't think anyone can fill your shoes, my heart." He lightly caressed your hand which was slowly losing its grip on his. "Thank you for all those wonderful years. You have made me the happiest man on Earth."

You looked at him one last time before you finally breathed your last breath.

"I'll see you soon, my heart."

(&)

#optional bias scenarios #optional bias imagines #optional bias fluff #optional bias x reader scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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jae-bummer · 11 months

Text

Right Here With Me

Request: hi! :) i feel like #19 on your recent prompt list would really fit to seventeen’s hhu, specifically to mingyu or seungcheol.. i adore your writing, thank you for putting in so much effort 💌

Prompt:

19) Taking care of your tipsy bias.

Pairing: Seventeen S.Coups x Reader

Genre: Fluff

You jumped as Seungcheol slammed his hand on the table. "Sing with me."

You blinked up at him in surprise. He was shimmying from side to side with the karaoke mic in hand.

"Coups," you sighed, crossing your arms. "We really need to get you guys back home."

"Noooo," he pouted, now his turn to cross his arms. "It's so lonely at home. Here is the opposite of whatever lonely is."

You looked across the table to Vernon who seemed to be thinking over the antonym of "lonely." Turning your eyes to Wonwoo for help instead, he gave a small shrug before taking a long sip of his water. To his benefit, he had been about as many drinks in as the rest of the guys but had chosen to hydrate about an hour ago.

"Come oooon, Y/N," Mingyu cooed, swaying behind Coups with the other microphone. "One more song!"

"One more song!" Coups chanted. "One more song!"

It wasn't long before Vernon and Mingyu had joined the chorus. With their shouting still in the background, Seungcheol stepped toward you and reached out to play with a lock of your hair. His eyes were half lidded and his plush lips pulled up at one side. "Come on, baby."

Closing your eyes, you sighed. "Coups."

Plopping on the bench beside you, he coaxed you into his side, and placed a wet kiss on your temple. "Pretty please? I love you soooo much. Why won't you love me?"

"Why is it that he always feels it pertinent to confess to you when he's drunk?" Wonwoo muttered as he watched with lifted brows.

"I don't know," you hissed, fighting your way out of Seungcheol's arms. "And what does me loving you have to do with you singing another song?"

"Everything," he said with a stubborn nod.

Wonwoo wasn't wrong. This was often Seungcheol's MO. You were best friends, even closer than that even. He was like a limb at this point. If you lost him, you wouldn't know how to function. That being said, the two of you had never explored a romantic relationship. You were mostly afraid of ruining your friendship, and he seemed to only think about it when he was intoxicated.

"He's so going to regret this in the morning," Vernon cackled, falling back into his seat.

"If you loved me, you'd let me sing one more song," Coups whined. "I'll even sing OUR song."

"We have a song?" you muttered. "Since when do we have a song?"

"Since," Coups hiccuped. "I heard it and thought of you."

"That's hardly "our" song then." You couldn't help but chuckle, plus, you were very curious to hear what Coups thought of as "your song."

"Pleaaaase," he begged. Sticking out his bottom lip, he gave you puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," you gasped. "One more song and then I walk you home!"

An award-winning smile took over Seungcheol's face as he sprung up and toward the karaoke machine. Flipping feverishly through his options, he finally seemed to find what he was looking for. Spinning around, he pointed a finger at you.

"This is for you, Y/N," he said in a low voice. You weren't sure if he was trying to be sexy or funny.

"Oh, this is going to be good," Wonwoo chuckled, pivoting himself to get a better look at the front of the room. Vernon already had his phone out and set to record.

You took a deep breath as you heard the intro to the song. Surely this wasn't what you thought this was.

"I've been drinking, I've been drinking," he crooned. "I get filthy when that liquor get into me - I've been thinking, I've been thinking..."

"Holy shit," Vernon hissed in between laughs. "This is the best day of my entire life."

You wished you were a turtle. If you had a shell, you would have something to crawl into and die. What was he doing?

"WE BE ALL NIGHT! LOOOOOOVE! LOOOOOOVE!" Seungcheol and Mingyu screeched at the top of their lungs as they began to grind their hips into the air.

"Well," Wonwoo said with a wince as he stood from the table. "That's enough of that."

Taking the few steps to cross the room, he tapped gingerly on the karaoke tablet. Within seconds, the music turned off, and the boys were left screaming in the open air.

"Yah!" Coups gasped, after he realized. "What did you do that for?"

"Everyone, I did that for everyone," Wonwoo muttered, gathering his things. "We have an early schedule tomorrow. Let's get moving."

You never had feelings for Wonwoo, but you could honestly kiss him right now.

"You heard him!" you yelled, pulling yourself to your feet as well. "Let's get moving!"

"Why didn't you like my song?" Seungcheol hiccupped. You were easing him up the steps to his apartment, holding nearly all of his body weight in the process.

"I liked your song just fine," you cringed, another flight of stairs behind you.

"You looked miserable," he pouted. "Why don't you ever take my confessions seriously, Y/N?"

"Because you don't take your confessions seriously," you muttered. Furrowing your brow, you counted the numbers on the apartment doors until you found his. "What's your code this week?"

"I can't tell you," he slurred. "It's a se-se-secret."

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you fluttered your hand toward the door. "Type it in then."

Seungcheol hiccupped again before slumping in the direction of the doorframe. Cupping his hand around the keypad, he eyed you suspiciously. "This is for my safety."

"I know, Cheolie," you laughed. "I'm not arguing with you."

Glancing back to the keypad, he stumbled back a bit. Catching him by the shoulders, you waited for the door to unlock.

"Why are there so many numbers?" Coups sighed, leaning against the door again and poking at the lock. "Three two's? Which two is the right two?"

"Let me try," you hummed. "Can you tell me what your code is?"

"My manager said not to tell anyone. Not even my mom."

"And you can change it as soon as I leave," you sighed. "If we can't get in, you're sleeping on the door mat tonight. And that's not very safe, is it?"

"Why can't I stay with you?" he asked, his eyes brightening with the sudden idea.

"Because I am not hauling you downstairs again and then another three blocks," you grumbled. "The code, please Coups."

"I like it when you call me Cheolie," he pouted.

"Cheolie, my sweet bean," you said, trying to contain your exhaustion. "Will you please tell me the code?"

"Mmm," he hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. "Is my birthday."

"Shocker," you breathed, rapidly typing in the lock code. The door made a small buzzing sound before chiming that you could enter.

Stumbling into his apartment, you flipped on the lights and popped off your shoes before heading to the kitchen. Seungcheol, on the other hand, toppled to the floor and began yanking at his shoes.

Scanning the cabinets, you found his most spill-proof tumbler and filled it with ice water. Judging by the muffled sounds of frustration in the entryway, he was still taking off his sneakers.

Turning the corner, you could only sigh. He looked like a toddler sorely in need of a nap. "They won't come off," he said quietly before looking up at you.

"Here," you said, handing him the water bottle. "Drink."

Doing as he was told, he gripped the bottle with both hands, and leaned back against the wall. You crouched down, making quick work of his shoelaces before you managed to finally free him.

"Let's get you to bed," you murmured, motioning for him to take your hand. He slid his palm into yours before easing himself up.

"How could I go from feeling so good to feeling so awful?" he muttered.

"Funny how alcohol will do that," you chuckled, walking with him to his bedroom. "Arms up."

Setting his drink on his desk, he lifted his arms into the air and allowed you to pull his hoodie from his torso. Losing balance after the motion, he toppled onto the mattress, pulling you with him.

"Hey!" you groaned, immediately trying to separate yourself.

"Stay with me," he said softly, tangling his arms and legs around you. "Please?"

He was always affectionate when he was drunk, and you knew that. You needed to shut it down now before your heart could coax you into staying a little longer.

"I have to go home," you whispered, still not willing your body to move. You tried not to be amused as Seungcheol began pulling blankets around you and tucking them in.

"You are home," he whispered. "Right here with me."

You felt an unwelcomed warmth spread through your chest. If he wasn't so cute this would be a lot easier.

"Seungcheol..."

"Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol," he continued quietly, settling himself in beside you. "Why do you always give me reasons why you can't stay instead of just trying?"

A little voice inside the back of your head repeated the old adage, drunk minds speak sober hearts. Coups was only clingy when he had too much to drink, but he had always been tender with you. Whether sober or inebriated, he was your person. You had never allowed yourself to think past platonic soulmates...but maybe...

"You're drunk," you countered. You felt so small in bed next to him. He was comfort and safety, even with soju on his breath.

"And you're scared."

He couldn't see the code to get into the apartment, but he could sure see right through you.

"It doesn't matter what I am," you whispered. "You'll regret this in the morning."

"No, I won't," he insisted. "Because I'll wake up with you next to me and I'll remember that drunk me did hangover me a solid.

I want you here, Y/N."

"Because you're drunk."

"Because you're mine," he said softly. "You always have been."

"Have I?" you whimpered. At this point, you were scared to break the spell. Scared that he would sober up and kick you out of his bed.

"Mhm," he cooed, pulling you closer. After placing a light kiss on your forehead, he chose to set his cheek there. "And I won't let go. Not even if there's a fire."

Anything that looked blurry now could be settled in the morning. How could you leave after that?

The Morning After

#s.coups #seungcheol #seventeen #svt #s.coups fluff #s.coups x reader #seungcheol fluff #choi seuncheol #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #s.coups seventeen #seungcheol seventeen #s.coups scenarios #s.coups oneshot #seungcheol scenario #seungcheol oneshot #seungcheol x reader

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kwanisms · 4 months

Text

🎄 Tales from Camp Holiday Special 06 🎄

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➮ choir teacher!Seungkwan × fem!Reader wc: 10.9k summary: While organizing a children's choir show, Seungkwan runs into an old fling who offers to help him corral the kids and help run the show. genres/themes/au: angst (only a little), fluff (a lot), smut (also a lot); holiday themes; non idol au, choir teacher au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist: @yoonguurt @wonw00t @aikisbbq @enhacolor @duchesskaren @sherituhhh @wonderfulshinee @gaebestie @drunk-on-dk @seokgyuu @salty-for-suga @aaniag @dnylwoo @1004luvangel join my taglists: main | TFC: Holiday Special closes when part 7 goes up! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: Seungkwan’s was initially the longest piece before I wrote Wonwoo’s whopping 12k novel in the OG series. I’ve grown as a writer since then so I wanted to explore more with writing for Seungkwan because while he’s my ult bias and the absolute love of my life, I actually don’t write a lot for him so when I do, I like to go a little above and beyond for my fellow Kwannie enthusiasts. So here’s the conclusion to our Lord and Savior, Boo Seungkwan’s part. Thank you so much for reading and if you enjoyed this part, please consider reblogging as it really helps me reach a larger audience. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (use protection pls. Don’t be like these two idiots lol), dubcon (they’re both pretty drunk), oral (f receiving, m receiving and it’s pretty messy), dirty talk (and lots of it cause whew), Seungkwan has a stocking & lingerie kink, begging (Seungkwan because I believe he’s pretty when he’s all flustered, red in the face, and begging), orgasm denial (m receiving), some thigh fucking (cause why not!), fingering (f receiving), power bottom!Seungkwan, slight voice kink on the MC’s part, and I think that’s all. Let me know if I missed any!

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“Alright, everyone, places please!” Seungkwan called, clapping his hands and looking over the children.

“That’s my spot!”

“Stop shoving!”

“Mr. Seungkwan, Annie took my spot!”

“Hey, that’s mine!”

Seungkwan sighed as the kids around him bickered as they lined up. This was proving to be much for him to handle. Why didn’t he agree to have an assistant? He shook his head before calling over the children’s heads again.

“Please, everyone. We need to get back to practice!” he said. “Annie, your spot is here and Jordan, there you are. Stephen, please stop pushing, we don’t push. Carrie, give Dalton back his hat.” Wrangling twenty-one children was a lot of work but it was his job as a choir teacher at an elementary school.

Upon graduating from university, Seungkwan landed this job and was surprised to find he loved it. He loved singing and teaching. Sure, the kids were hard to control sometimes but they were kids after all. He knows he was probably a handful for his mother at that age.

Once the kids were in line, Seungkwan made sure they were all accounted for before beginning practice. He’d chosen to arrange a holiday choir for the school’s Holiday Festival and had given his students the option of joining, telling them they didn’t have to if they didn’t want to. The other music teacher, Molly, had offered to help him and Seungkwan politely turned her down, thinking he could manage.

To be fair, he could manage but only just. He was barely floating at this point and the kids, as much as he loved them, were wearing him and his patience thin. If this had been his friends, he would have already been yelling at them, cursing between every word but these were kids.

He unfortunately had to be the adult.

“Let’s take it from the top,” he instructed, holding his hands up to direct. “One, two, three…”

Practice had gone about as well as he could expect. The kids were able to get through two of the planned songs before one of the boys, Evan, had a full blown meltdown over the girl next to him yawning. Thankfully the parents arrived to pick up their kids right after and Seungkwan was free to go home.

He stopped by the store on his way, remembering the grocery list on his phone. The store seemed to be a little busier than usual, the holidays being the time of the year where everyone was cooking and baking for family and entertaining friends. Seungkwan managed to snag a parking space close to the doors as a light mist started to fall over the city. He pulled his hat on and got out of his car, heading for the store quickly.

Once inside, he grabbed a cart, pulling out his phone to go over his list and start shopping. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world but he really did relish the time he got alone in the store. It was the only place he could feel truly alone. At work, he was surrounded by children and at home, he shared an apartment with his best friends.

Seungkwan made a turn into an aisle, looking for pasta sauce when his cart ran into another and he stopped, apologizing profusely. His eyes looked up and widened in surprise as they landed on the person pushing the cart.

“Well, well, well, Boo Seungkwan,” you said with an amused smile. “Long time no see.”

Seungkwan offered a sheepish smile. What were the odds? He’d spilled his guts about the time you and he were camp counselors and hooked up at his last camping trip with his friends and here you were months later. It had been years since he’d seen you and he was captivated by the way you didn’t seem to have changed much but also at the same time, you changed a lot.

“Wow, Y/N,” he replied. “How have you been?” He watched as you shrugged. “Can’t complain,” you replied. “Just been working. I got back from an overseas assignment,” you added. Seungkwan looked at you with surprise. “Whoa, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah! It was really cool. But what about you? What have you been up to?” you asked.

Seungkwan felt his cheeks grow warm. “Uhm,” he hesitated. “I heard you got a job as a vocal teacher, is that right?” you asked. Seungkwan nodded wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, I did,” he answered. “Elementary kids. They have music class divided. One vocal teacher and one music teacher.”

You smiled widely. “That’s great! I know how much you love working with kids.”

Seungkwan nodded. “Yeah, they’re really testing my patience though,” he added in an undertone making you laugh, throwing your head back. God how he had missed your laugh. “Boo Seungkwan, getting his patience tested? Unheard of,” you joked, making him join in your laughter.

“Yeah,” he started, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “It’s just we’re putting on this Holiday Festival and I’m in charge of the choir. These kids signed up for it, it’s not like this is for a grade,” he explained. “But they’re just so restless.”

You nodded as you listened to his worries.

“I’ve been trying to wrangle these kids but it’s really wearing me down,” he explained and you frowned slightly. “Do you need some help?” you asked, making him look up at you. “What?” he asked softly. You offered a warm smile. “I could help, if you’d like?”

Seungkwan couldn’t describe the relief he felt when you offered. Yet he knew he couldn’t accept your help so easily. “Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t ask that of you,” he added. You shook your head with a light laugh. “You aren’t asking, Seungkwan,” you replied. “I’m offering.”

Seungkwan made a show of thinking about it before he gave in. “Yes, okay. I could really use some help,” he said quickly, making you giggle. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” you said with a smile as you pulled your phone out. “Is your number the same?”

“Uhh, no,” Seungkwan said, patting his pockets and managing to locate his phone. Once you had swapped new contact information, Seungkwan slipped the device back in his pocket. “I should probably finish this,” he said, gesturing to the shopping cart in front of him. You nodded, placing your hands on your own handlebar. “Same,” you replied. “My mom will kill me if I don’t get back with ample time for her to make dinner.” Seungkwan smiled as you looked up at him.

“Just text me the time and location of the next practice and I’ll be there.”

You let Seungkwan go first, watching as he disappeared around the corner before you headed on to finish your own shopping.

Seungkwan felt like he was speedrunning the rest of his shopping to get to the check out, hoping you might finish around the same time but unfortunately he didn’t see you again in the shop. Outside, he opened the trunk of his car, placing his groceries inside before shutting it and returning the cart.

On the drive home, Seungkwan reminisced about your time together at camp and your long standing rivalry. It wasn’t lost on him how things had changed over the years. In some of his free time, he found himself wondering what you were up to. How had life been treating you? What had changed?

After seeing you again, he was surprised to see not much had changed at all. Sure, you were both a little older, a little wiser, but you looked almost exactly the same. You had a different aura about you, though Seungkwan couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that was giving you said aura.

Upon arriving home, Seungkwan put the groceries away, taking note that his roommate was not home before he decided to start making dinner. While he cooked, his thoughts drifted to you before remembering he needed to text you where to meet him and what time.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up your contact, hesitating for a moment as he looked at your picture. It was one he’d taken of you at camp all those years ago. The last day he saw you before you both graduated from university and started working, no longer free to work summer camps.

[flashback - 3 years ago]

“Wow,” you exclaimed, hand raised over your eyes as you shielded the sun and looked out over the ocean. “It’s so blue!” Seungkwan smiled as he looked at you. “Come on,” he said, tugging your hand. “Hang on,” you said, pulling from his grip and walking over the sand where the water was washing up onto the shore. “I’ve never been to the ocean,” you exclaimed with a laugh.

Seungkwan walked over slowly, watching you stand and wait for the water to return. As it washed over your barefeet, you squealed in excitement, looking up at him with a bright smile.

It was the last few days of the summer vacation before your final year of university. Soon you would be heading back home for school and after graduation, Seungkwan wasn’t sure when he’d see you again, if ever. He’d invited you to spend a couple weeks in Jeju with him, visiting his family before he, too, returned to school.

“We can come back,” he said, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together, giving you a slight tug. “There’s something I want to show you,” he added and led you away from the shoreline and back towards the path he’d been trying to take you on. He stopped, letting you brush the sand off your feet and put your sandals on before the two of you continued, walking along the path.

The hike wasn’t a long one and it wasn’t too extensive but it boasted arguably the best views on the island and even better was that only a handful of people knew about it. Seungkwan and his friends had stumbled upon the secluded area in middle school one summer and turned it into a haven of sorts.

As you climbed higher and higher into the mountains, you started to whine that you wanted to go back to the beach, making Seungkwan chuckle as he found the hidden path. “I promise this is worth it,” he said softly, pulling back some of the vegetation to reveal the hidden footpath that was much less traveled than the paved one you’d been walking on.

You eyed him suspiciously before stepping onto the path, Seungkwan right behind you. The path between the trees was narrow but Seungkwan kept close to you from behind, making sure you didn’t trip or stumble as you walked.

Soon the path opened up into a small clearing, overlooking the beach and the ocean. You let out a gasp as you stopped, turning to look back at Seungkwan who only smiled and gestured for you to continue.

It had been some time since Seungkwan had been here. The open area was covered overhead by the canopy of leaves and a wall of rocks lined the edge of the cliff. He and his friends had built it to feel a little safer in their youth. It also helped obscure the clear from the beach and made the area look and feel much more private.

“This is incredible, Kwan,” you said softly as you walked closer to the cliff’s edge. “Look at the ocean,” you whispered as he walked up to stand beside you. “It just stretches for miles.” Seungkwan said nothing, letting you soak in the view at your own pace. “It’s gorgeous,” you added, turning to smile at him before quickly looking back at the water as he looked at you.

“Yeah, you are,” he muttered, making you groan and playfully hit his shoulder. Your light punches didn’t seem to phase Seungkwan as he reached up, turning your face towards him as he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. After a moment, he pulled back, a smile on his lips before he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and let go of your chin.

Seungkwan sat on a fallen log, one he and his friends had dragged up to the cliff and used as a makeshift bench. You joined him, leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder as you both stared out over the water. Neither one of you spoke for several minutes that seemed to take hours to pass by.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” you said softly. “Gonna miss the beach, and the food,” you added. Seungkwan smiled, turning his head to kiss the top of your head. “We can always come back,” he said softly as you raised your head to look at him. “Come back?” you asked, brows knitting in confusion.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a nod. “Next summer,” he continued. Your look of confusion was replaced with one of dejection. “I don’t know if that will be possible,” you said softly, turning to look away from him quickly. Seungkwan took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Why not?” he asked, searching your eyes for the answers but finding only despair. “We’re graduating,” you replied. “Once college is over, real life begins.” Seungkwan chuckled. “Well, of course,” he said, letting go of your chin. “But what does that have to do with --?”

“Who knows if we’ll even see each other again.”

The words you blurted out held a lot of weight and Seungkwan was aware of the fact that what you had shared over the last four summers couldn’t last forever but it still hit him in the gut like a strong punch. Despite knowing things might not ever progress to anything more than a regular summer fling, he still had hope. He had to. How could he not when he was desperately head over heels for you?

“Y/N,” he started, taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I know our paths only cross once a year and have for the last four years,” he continued. “But the thing about graduating college, becoming a full fledged adult, and joining the real world is that we get to decide where we go.”

You looked up from your intertwined hands at him as he looked up to meet your gaze.

“And who we go with.”

[end flashback - the present]

He shook his head, pushing the memory down. Things hadn’t ended the way he’d hoped. He’d been so optimistic about the future you could have had but when graduation came around, he didn’t hear from you and he feared the worst. He’d tried looking you up on social media but never found a profile.

He eventually came to accept this and tried to move on but in the end, he was just too lovesick and so he pushed the memories and feelings down, repressing them rather than confronting them and moving on like a sane person would do.

But you were back. You were back and going to be working with him to get this choir show presentation ready. Seungkwan knew he’d be a fool if he let this opportunity slip him by so he needed a game plan.

The next day of practice for the children’s choir at the youth center came much faster than Seungkwan was prepared for and he was pleasantly surprised to see you waiting at the door for him, a coffee in either hand. You’d chosen to wear a turtleneck black dress that stopped just above the knee, sheer tights, knee high black boots and a cream colored long coat.

You looked like a vision as Seungkwan approached, giving him a warm smile. “Iced americano with extra liquid sugar?” you asked as you held out one of the cups of coffee. Seungkwan took it from you with a muttered thanks, his cheeks starting to grow warm.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” he added as he pulled the door open for you, allowing you inside first. You smiled, laughing softly as you walked together. “Of course I remembered,” you replied. “Listening to you place your order was always one of my favorite things when we were in Jeju.”

Seungkwan froze in his steps, causing you to turn. “Really?” he asked, genuinely surprised. You laughed again, nodding. “Yeah. I like listening to the way you said it in Korean. To be honest, I just like listening to you speak in Korean,” you added as he started to walk again, matching his pace.

Silence washed over the two of you as Seungkwan processed this information. Perhaps his plan to confess his feelings to you wasn’t such a bad idea after all but he needed more to go off of before he could just blurt out he was still in love with you.

“What else do you remember from Jeju?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible. You gave him a quick side glance. “I remember the beach,” you said softly as the two of you reached the room Seungkwan had been assigned for the practices.

He unlocked the door and opened it for you, letting you in first before following and turning on the light. “Just the beach?” he asked as he propped the door open and walked over to the desk, setting down his coffee and bag before shrugging off his coat.

He placed it on the back of the chair and turned to find you’d also stripped your coat off, allowing him to see you in your dress fully. It was a form-fitted cable knit sweater dress with long sleeves and turtleneck. The ends of the sleeves had black fuzzy cuffs. You turned to look at him.

“Not just the beach,” you replied, giving him a very pointed look and Seungkwan couldn’t help but smile as a memory resurfaced from your time together in Jeju. He’d taken you all over the island, showing you his hometown, taking you to local spots as well as tourist ones. You’d tried local specialties, seen multiple sights but for him the best part of the trip was when you got back to the cabin you were staying in.

Whether it was making dinner together, watching a movie, or in the sheets, he had loved every minute spent with you in that cabin. It was almost like he imagined being married would be. The domesticity of it all. He loved making dinner with you in the kitchen as you joked around and then doing the dishes and cleaning up. He loved curling up on the sofa to watch a movie before retiring to bed.

Not to mention being able to have a taste of you almost every night was more than worth it.

“Ah,” he said, fighting the urge to smirk. So he wasn’t the only one who remembered the sex.

You turned away from him, pulling your phone out of your purse and checking that the sound was turned off before you walked over to the desk where Seungkwan stood. “I remember a lot about that summer,” you said, leaning against the desk and looking up at him. “Like what?” he asked.

He was pushing his luck and he knew it but he still wanted to hear you say it.

“The cliff,” you said, catching him off guard. “And the cabin,” you added, your lips pulling into a smirk.

Seungkwan felt heat rise to his face at the same time it started to settle in the pit of his stomach.

Before he could answer, he heard the sound of laughter in the lobby. ‘The kids,’ he thought as he walked over to the door and peered out. He turned back to you. “Alright, they’re here,” he said, looking back at you. “I’d like to introduce you to the parents, so they know you’re here.”

You nodded and walked over to where he stood. You watched him get into his element, greeting the kids and their parents as they wandered over to the door. True to his word, Seungkwan introduced you to all the parents who were more pleased than upset to see you, a stranger, would be helping Seungkwan.

Once all the kids had been dropped off and the parents informed of your presence, you followed Seungkwan back into the room to begin wrangling the kids.

“I need everyone’s attention!” Seungkwan called over the sounds of laughter and giggling.

To your shock, the kids immediately fell silent, turning their attention to their teacher. “We have a guest today,” Seungkwan continued and you saw several pairs of eyes fall on you. “This is my friend, Miss Y/N,” he announced. “She’s going to be helping us during practices. Everyone say ‘hello Miss Y/N!’”

You were suddenly greeted by a cacophony of children saying hello in unison. You smiled warmly around at them before repeating the same sentiment. “Hello everyone,” you said in a cheerful tone. “It’s nice to meet you all!”

Seungkwan launched immediately into practice, having you help him get the children into their places and assisting him in any way you could. It wasn’t particularly hard work and whenever the kids weren’t listening to Seungkwan speak, you were able to walk around the room and gently return their attention up front.

Once practice was over and the parents came to pick their kids up, you were sure you and Seungkwan could manage this. What was the worst that could happen?

The first couple days flew by, you had settled into a routine, bringing Seungkwan a coffee before each Saturday morning practice. You started bringing him breakfast just to make sure he’d eat something in the morning. Setting up the room and getting ready for the kids to arrive while you chatted and caught up with each others’ weeks.

Seungkwan had become extremely grateful for your help and presence. He felt that the children behaved much better with you around. He was grateful for the coffee and breakfast sandwiches you brought him, claiming they were store bought but he knew damn well you were getting up extra early to make him breakfast and stopping to grab coffee.

You also made sure he got lunch, even accompanying him after practice and cleaning up the room. He was looking forward to his Saturday mornings as it meant he got to spend them with you.

The last practice fell on a Friday before the Saturday show was one long practice and dress rehearsal rolled into one. The kids were now on winter break and being exceptionally restless that day and despite his best efforts, he just couldn’t get the kids to pay attention and behave. It was the one morning you hadn’t been able to join him immediately as you had a prior work engagement.

He was really starting to worry that they’d never get through practice when the door opened and you peered in. The kids looked up as you entered and excitedly greeted you as you shut the door behind you. In your arms was a green tub full of white paper sacks.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said as you walked over to the desk and set the tub down before shedding your jacket. The weather had warmed up a little, the remnants of the snow from before melting but another snow storm was due that night. “Hi Miss Y/N!” the kids chimed excitedly, waving.

You waved back as you set your jacket down. Today, you’d chosen to wear another dress. This one was more festive. It was a Christmas green fitted bodice with a circle skirt that fell to the middle of your thighs, and long fitted sleeves. The material looked like some type of velvet and Seungkwan briefly wondered what it would be like to run his hand over the material. He shook the thoughts from his head quickly.

You’d matched the dress with pantyhose, and white low heels. Your makeup was also very festive. A soft eyeshadow look with a bold dark green lip. It was striking and Seungkwan couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you walked over, carrying the tub.

“What’s that?” he asked, peering into the tub. Each bag had a little winter and holiday motif on it. Snowflakes, reindeer, santa, candy canes, and more adorned the bags. “I thought we could take a lunch break,” you said softly. “I checked with the parents and they said they would be extremely grateful for this. I also got dietary restrictions from them for their kids,” you explained under your breath.

Seungkwan’s eyes widened as you started to address the kids.

“How about we take a little break?” you asked, smiling around at them. “I asked your parents if I could bring lunch for you all and they said yes and they also told me what you couldn’t eat, so I went ahead and prepared some lunches!” you said excitedly, showing the contents of the tub to the kids who whispered excitedly.

“Let me help,” Seungkwan said softly, taking the tub from you. “You pass them out, I’ll carry this.”

You worked as a team, calling out names and passing the lunches to the kids. Once everyone had theirs, you told them to dig in before walking over to the desk and showing Seungkwan the lunch you’d grabbed for the two of you.

The kids sat on the floor in circles with their friends, talking animatedly while they ate their lunches. You pulled a chair up to the desk as Seungkwan opened the bag your food had come in. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmured so only you could hear. “Although I really appreciate it.”

You smiled as you unwrapped your sandwich. “I don’t mind,” you said softly. “And besides, it lets me use up the groceries I buy in bulk,” you added. “So,” you said as Seungkwan opened a bottle of cola, setting it in front of you before opening one for himself. “Tomorrow’s the big day,” you noted and he nodded, heaving a big sigh. “They’ve been so restless and rowdy all day,” he murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the children.

“I’ve been struggling to get through this practice.”

You smiled, taking a sip of your soda before swallowing. “Well, I’m here now,” you offered. “I’m sure together we can get them to behave long enough to get through practice.” Seungkwan didn’t miss the wink you threw his way. He also didn’t miss the way it made his heart skip a beat.

After lunch, the kids were allowed to rest and you pulled out homemade bingo boards and passed them around to the kids, also passing out bags with smashed marbles as you explained the rules. It was going to be musical bingo. It was going to test their memory of the songs they were going to sing for the show as well as their parts. Seungkwan felt like he could kiss you.

He decided to get some paperwork done while you kept the kids entertained.

It took a couple rounds before kids started getting bingos and it wasn’t until the last child called out a bingo that you ended the game and passed out rewards in the form of snacks and small toys you most likely grabbed from the dollar store.

“Now that we’ve had lunch and we’ve refreshed our memories,” you said as you finished packing up the boards and bags of markers. “Let’s continue this practice cause I know you’ve all got this and you’re going to totally rock this show!”

By the end of practice, Seungkwan wanted to ask you to marry him. You’d managed to turn the children from gremlins into calm little lambs and not only did they behave during practice but they were the best they’d ever been. As the kids were putting on their coats and thanking you for today, Seungkwan had one of his students come up and tug on his sleeve. It was one of the more quiet students.

“What is it, Stephanie?” he asked, squatting down to her level. “You have a really nice girlfriend, Mr. Seungkwan,” she said softly before sauntering off to join her friends. Seungkwan glanced up to where he saw you helping one of the kids put their coat on correctly.

His cheeks burned from the embarrassment and he suddenly wondered who else thought you were his girlfriend. He decided not to dwell on it as the parents started arriving. He’d bring it up to you later.

One by one, the kids were picked up until it was just you and Seungkwan in the room. He grabbed the empty tub and waited for you to put on your jacket and grab your purse before turning the light off and following you out the door, closing and locking it.

The two of you walked to the door and stopped. “Thank you for today,” he said softly. “It was a huge help.” You smiled at him as you wrapped a scarf around your neck. The sun was already starting to set and the temperature had dropped considerably as the weather predicted for the snow coming later.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

You thanked Seungkwan as he opened the door for you and walked into the parking lot. Your car wasn’t far into the parking lot and soon you had reached it, unlocking the doors. “Just put that in the backseat,” you said softly, pointing at the tub and opening the door for Seungkwan to place on the seat before shutting it again.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” you asked and Seungkwan shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I think you’re right. They’ve got this.” You smiled as you leaned against your car. Seungkwan contemplated telling you what Stephanie had said. ‘Just tell her, you idiot!’

“You know,” he started, a soft laugh escaping him. “I think my students are really fond of you.”

Another smile spread across your lips. “Not as fond as they are of you,” you replied and he shook his head. “They don’t like me that much.” You shook your head this time. “No, really. They adore you, Seungkwan. It’s really cute actually.”

Silence fell over the two of you for a beat. ‘It’s now or never.’

“Hey, after all of this is said and done,” Seungkwan started, drawing your attention. “Would you maybe want to--”

He was interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone and you sighed, pulling the device out, glancing at the screen before giving him an apologetic look and answering it. “Yes, mom?” you asked and Seungkwan forced a smile. ‘Cockblocked by the mom. Great.’

You waited, listening to what your mother had to say, nodding along before finally answering. “Yeah, sure. I can swing by the store on my way home.” You looked at Seungkwan and playfully rolled your eyes. “Yeah, we’re leaving just now. So I’ll be home soon… okay. Yep. Love you, too.”

You said bye, hanging up and slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up at Seungkwan. “Sorry about that,” you said breathlessly. “You were saying?”

Seungkwan looked up, meeting your gaze. ‘Come on, she’s waiting!’

But it was no use. His momentary confidence was gone.

“It’s nothing,” he replied with a smile. “Just, get home safe, okay?” he asked, starting to turn away but stopped when you gently grabbed his arm, making him turn back to face you. “Don’t do that,” you said softly. “I know you want to say something. Don’t psyche yourself into not saying it. Just ask me.”

Seungkwan cleared his throat, cheeks burning from having been caught. You knew him far too well for his own good. He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I thought that maybe when everything is said and done, we could get dinner?” A smile spread across your face and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’d love that,” you replied. “Just tell me when and where.”

Seungkwan nodded, stepping back as you opened your door and got in, turning on the car and rolling your window down. “Text me when you get back to your mom’s safe, okay?” he said, leaning down to look into your window. You nodded up at him. “You too. Let me know when you get home.”

Seungkwan promised he would before saying he would see you tomorrow and watching you drive off as the first few flurries of snow fell. He glanced up at the sky and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. It wasn’t exactly according to plan, but it was better than nothing.

╾───────────────────⭒✧⭒──────────────────╼

The next morning, the day of the choir show, Seungkwan woke up to a blanket of snow covering the ground but thankfully the road crews were out clearing the roads and treating them for ice. Seungkwan went about his day as usual, nerves setting in.

He wasn’t nervous for the show, but because of you. The kiss last night, even if it was on the cheek, felt extremely intimate for some reason. He chalked it up to him being overly optimistic but he was going to ride that wave for as long as he could.

As the day wore on, Seungkwan got ready for the show. The attire was festive so he chose a red sweater and a pair of black slacks and black shoes, grabbing the green and red striped elf hat and his coat before leaving the apartment. He was thankful for his building’s parking garage as he walked into the covered space, locating his car and getting in.

The concert was to be performed inside the gymnasium at the community center while the rest of the festival took place in the halls and outside. He arrived early, finding a cleared parking lot and pulled into a space before getting out and moving to the trunk of his, pulling out the box of reindeer antlers for the kids.

He walked up to the doors, thanking the man who held it open for him as he exited.

Once inside, Seungkwan made his way to the gym, greeting the staff as he walked up to check in.

He looked at the list and saw you had already arrived, his heart beating erratically in his chest.

‘What is wrong with you? Calm down!’

Seungkwan entered the gymnasium and looked around, astonished at the work put into decorating the space. His eyes landed on you over by the small stage that had been erected, talking to one of the staff members. He walked over, eyes scanning your figure.

You’d really dressed up for the occasion. The dress you wore was another green one but under this one, you wore a white petticoat, fluffing up the skirt. The bodice was fitted but instead of long sleeves, it had short off-the-shoulder cap sleeves. You had on a green Santa hat with white fur trim and the trim of your dress matched the hat. You paired the dress with some pantyhose and a black pair of shoes, ones that Seungkwan was impressed to see had red bottoms.

He approached you, setting the box of antlers on the top of the piano, drawing both yours and the staff members’ attention. Your face lit up upon seeing him, giving him a quick once over. Your makeup was similar to yesterday only your eyes had more shimmer and your lips were a deep red.

Seungkwan sighed dramatically before gesturing at the box. “These feel like they weigh a ton!” he whined and you chuckled lightly at him, turning back to the staff member before she departed, leaving you and Seungkwan alone in your little corner.

“You look incredible,” he said softly. “Th-thanks,” you stuttered, turning away to busy yourself with the box of antlers. “Not gonna lie, I kinda of want to wear these,” you joked. Seungkwan smiled, pointing to your hat. “But your hat matches so well,” he commented. You shrugged. “Maybe I want something different,” you replied cheekily. Seungkwan shook his head, turning away.

When his back was turned, you were quick to grab his hat off his head. Seungkwan spun around, eyes wide and you forced your hat into his hands. “You should have the Santa hat,” you said, putting his hat on your head. “I’m your assistant. I should have the elf ears.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, smiling all the same as he turned back around. “You’re silly,” he murmured as he picked the box up and moved it over to the side of the stage near the steps and out of the way as you sat on the piano bench.

Seungkwan felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, checking the screen to see Molly was calling him before answering it. “Hey, Molly,” he said softly, glancing at you before paying attention to his co-worker.

“Seungkwan, I’m so sorry!” Molly said, her voice sounding hysterical. “Whoa, whoa, are you okay?” Seungkwan asked, excusing himself and walking a short distance away from where you sat, keeping his voice down as he spoke.

You turned your head, wondering who Molly was and how Seungkwan knew her. ‘Probably his girlfriend,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Or possibly a wife,’ a voice in the back of your brain said. You mentally shook that idea away. ‘He’s not married,’ you told yourself. ‘He would have mentioned that.’

You glanced Seungkwan’s way and saw him nervously biting at his thumbnail. The look on his face was one of distress. ‘That can’t be good…’

A few moments later, after nodding and murmuring a few words you couldn’t hear, Seungkwan hung up, placing his phone back in his pocket and walked over, taking a seat beside you and hanging his head, elbows resting on his thighs.

“That doesn’t sound good,” you said as he let out a deep sigh. “Molly can’t make it,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Oh,” you replied, not sure how to respond. You had no idea who Molly was. “Is that your girlfriend?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungkwan’s head snapped up and he gave you a bewildered look. “What? No,” he replied, sounding confused. “Molly is the music teacher at the school I work at. She teaches music and I teach vocals,” he explained. “She was supposed to be our accompaniment.”

You mentally scolded yourself before perking up. “Wait,” you said quickly, making Seungkwan look up. “Piano, right?” you asked, turning to him. Seungkwan nodded slowly as a smile spread across your face.

“How much time do we have before the concert?”

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes before checking his watch. “An hour,” he replied, looking back up at you as you stood up and turned to face the piano, lifting the key cover and opening the music book. “Let me run through these songs real quick and I can do it,” you told him.

Seungkwan has lost track of how many times he wanted to kiss you for literally saving the day. “No fucking way,” he laughed in disbelief as you started warming up, flexing your fingers. “It’s been a few years since I’ve played,” you explained, fingers gliding over the keys as you read the sheet music before pausing to look at him.

“But I think I got this.”

Not only did you manage to run through the entire set a couple times with Seungkwan but you followed the kids perfectly, surprising Seungkwan and yourself. When the show came to a close, Seungkwan hurried over to you, a man you’d never seen following him.

“Y/N,” he said as you stood up, brushing off your dress. “This is Jihoon,” he explained, introducing the man who smiled politely at you, a woman standing off to the side on her phone behind him. “JIhoon, this is Y/N,” he said, introducing you excitedly.

You didn’t miss the way Jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, glancing at Seungkwan before looking quickly back at you. “It’s nice to meet you,” Jihoon said, giving you a polite nod. “Sorry, Kwan,” Jihoon said, turning to his friend. “But I’ve got plans.” You noticed how he glanced at the woman who smiled at you and Seungkwan. “We’ll catch up soon,” Jihoon added before waving and walking over to the woman and the pair headed for the gymnasium exit.

Seungkwan stared after them before turning to you. “Sorry about that,” he said softly, taking your green hat off his head. “Jihoon is one of my friends I told you about.” You smiled as he handed your hat back and took his hat off your head, passing it back to him.

“The friends you go camping with, right?” you asked, glancing at the green Santa hat in your hands. “Yeah,” Seungkwan said softly. Silence fell over the two of you briefly before you looked up at Seungkwan. “You want to check out the rest of the festival?” A grin spread over his face before he nodded. “Sure,” he said.

“Why not? You saved the show after all. I’d do anything you asked me to, right now.”

As the festival went on, you dragged Seungkwan outside, donning your coats and walking around the ice sculpture display as well as the holiday lights, taking pictures. Despite the freezing temperatures, Seungkwan still found himself having a good time. Up until you dragged him into a photobooth.

“Nothing good happens in photobooths,” his roommate, Vernon, once told him. As you squeezed into the tight space, you scrolled through the frame options until you settled on one and pushed the button. The first set of pictures turned out okay, some of them sort of awkward so Seungkwan was determined to get ones you could proudly display.

The first picture was just a nice one of the two of you smiling. Then you separate your pointer and index fingers into V’s before putting them upside down to your head, like cat ears which Seungkwan followed. You turned to look at him, laughter on your tongue and he just acted.

His hands went to the sides of your neck, pulling you into a kiss as the flash continued, the pictures all but forgotten as soon as your lips met. It was like time stood still, your heart pounding in your chest. You felt Seungkwan’s tongue swipe over your bottom lip and you parted your lips, letting his tongue slide into your mouth, a muffled groan coming from his chest as he pressed further into you.

After what felt like forever but was probably only a few moments, he pulled back, looking at you with heavy lidded eyes, his cheeks tinged red. His lips were slightly stained from your lipstick but he couldn’t care less and neither could you.

You panted, trying to catch your breath as you stared back before Seungkwan finally spoke, breaking the silence, leaning his forehead against yours.

“God, I love you.”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked up at him. “What?” you whispered.

The moment the words left his mouth, Seungkwan knew he was screwed. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud but he just couldn’t hold it in anymore. There was no doubt in his mind that he was hopelessly and shamelessly still in love with you.

He pulled back, taking a deep breath and opening his eyes to meet your confused gaze.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I have ever since Jeju. Actually, since before Jeju,” he explained. “I’ve thought about no one else but you since then. When it’s just me and my thoughts alone, you occupy them. When I see something that reminds me of you, you’re just there. I don’t mean for it to sound so weird but I never stopped loving you,” he continued, cupping your cheeks gently.

“I just repressed all my feelings instead of dealing with them like an adult and --”

You pulled him into a kiss by the collar of his sweater, your lips meeting his and shutting him up mid sentence. When you pulled back, Seungkwan looked properly shocked. “Seungkwan,” you said softly, lips ghosting over his. “Yeah?” he whispered.

“Take me home,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. His expression shifted and he nodded. “Oh, okay,” he murmured, pulling back. “I thought you drove here.” Your smile dropped before you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“I meant take me to your home, you idiot.”

His brow furrowed in confusion before the meaning of your words sank in and his eyes widened comically. “Oh!” he said loudly before you clapped your hand over his mouth. “Shh, shut up!” He nodded, pulling your hand from his mouth.

“Right,” he said, his voice lower again. “I’ll take you home,” he said softly.

You grabbed the two strips of photos from the photobooth and allowed Seungkwan to lead you from the festival, making his way over to his car. He unlocked the door and opened it for you, shutting the door and quickly jogging around to the driver’s side before getting in and starting the engine.

The drive back to his place, he tried to obey the traffic laws, he really did, but he was just too eager and impatient. When you noticed his knee bouncing, you reached over, taking his hand gently. “We have all night,” you said softly. “No need to be anxious.” Seungkwan shook his head, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m not anxious,” he replied. “I’m impatient.”

Not long after, Seungkwan was pulling into his designated parking space, cutting the engine and making you wait so he could open your door for you. Inside the building, you tried to behave and keep your hands to yourself but the moment you entered the elevator, you lost your resolve.

“Oh, shit,” Seungkwan cursed as you pushed him back against the mirrored surface of the elevator wall, his hands moving to cup your face. “We shouldn’t be doing this here,” he grunted before taking your lips in a kiss, his tongue hot and messy against yours as your hands pulled at his clothes.

“Ssstop it!” he hissed, breaking the kiss and glancing up at the camera mounted to the shiny elevator ceiling. “Someone’s probably watching,” he whined, hands falling to your hips as your lips moved down his neck. “Then let’s give them a show,” you giggled in his ear, your breath tickling his skin.

The elevator dinged, Seungkwan pushing you back slightly. “We’re here,” he confirmed as the doors opened onto his floor. He took your hand and pulled, tugging you down the deserted hallway towards the door to his apartment. You were only able to get a brief glance at your surroundings as Seungkwan fished for his keycard.

The building was a new building, state of the art card readers on every door. The hallway reminding you of a fancy upscale hotel rather than an apartment building. Seungkwan managed to get the card to read properly and turned the handle, shoving the door open as he dragged you in behind him.

Once the door clicked shut, he had you pinned against it, lips attaching to your neck and leaving soft bites and kisses as he made his way down to your collar, whining at the lack of access due to your blazer. He fumbled with the button, succeeding a moment later and peeling the garment off you.

You kicked your heels off as he stumbled to take his shoes off. You giggled as he pulled you through the apartment, pushing you against the kitchen island as he grinded into you from behind, teeth grazing against the skin of your shoulder. You managed to stumble your way through the apartment to his bedroom, pulling layer after layer of clothes off one another, leaving you in just your underwear.

Once you were laid on the bed, Seungkwan hesitated, taking in your form under him. He could remember the last time he had you like this and it made his cock throb, wanting to bury himself inside you and never leave again.

“God,” he groaned, leaning down to press his face into your chest, his hips resting against yours as he lay between your thighs. “I’ve missed you so much,” he whined. “Kwannie,” you whined, combing your fingers through his hair, undoing the style he’d done earlier before the concert. He lifted his head, pushing himself up and hovering over you.

“Lay back,” you instructed, starting to sit up but Seungkwan placed a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back against the mattress. “Later,” he whispered, lowering his face to kiss your chest. “I just really wanna taste you,” he murmured, his voice muffled as he kissed down your stomach.

“Wanna bury my face between these beautiful thighs,” he groaned, gripping your thigh, his fingers pressing into your skin over your stockings. “Okay,” you breathed as he kissed further down. He wasted no time removing your panties, flinging them away as he settled between your thighs, kissing the inside of each before his mouth descended on your sex, fingers spreading your folds.

You gasped out as he licked slowly up your sex, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucked. You propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His eyes opened lazily as he made eye contact before shutting again as he threw himself into it, tongue wiggling against you, slurping and lapping at your clit. You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, slipping inside you until he was knuckles deep.

“Ngh, Seungkwan,” you groaned, back arching off the mattress as he teasingly curled his fingers. “Sound so pretty for me,” he noted, barely pulling back enough to speak before he was licking at your clit, tongue moving quickly against it. His fingers started to pump slowly, just enough to build the tension but he would slow them to a stop when he felt your walls start to flutter.

“Can’t have you coming undone just yet,” he murmured, placing a kiss to your mound before pulling back, resting his head against the inside of your thigh as his fingers moved quicker, scissoring you open. He watched the rise and fall of your lace clad chest, admiring the way you whimpered and mewled as he fingered you.

“I could do this for hours,” he huffed, hot breath fanning over your skin. “D-don’t,” you murmured. “I need you, Kwannie.” You heard him chuckle lowly. “You need me?” he asked, raising his head slightly, turning to place a wet kiss against your thigh.

“Need me to stuff this pretty little pussy full?”

You nodded wordlessly, moans spilling from your lips instead of words. Seungkwan felt his heart swell. Seeing you needy and proclaiming that you needed him certainly was fanning the flames and stroking his ego. He wanted you to want him. Wanted you to need him. He loved feeling this way.

The way you made him feel. Like he was so irresistibly sexy. He loved feeling that way.

“Wanna feel me inside?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. You groaned, walls tightening around his fingers. “You like it when I talk like this?” he asked, raising himself just enough to see your face contorted in pleasure. You nodded fervently, another moan ripping from you as he curled his fingers.

“Wanna feel my cock pound this tight pussy?”

Seungkwan enjoyed the way you tensed up, thighs shaking as your orgasm threatened to wash over you. “I’ll give you what you want,” he murmured. “But only if you do something for me,” he added. You raised yourself up, resting on your elbows to look at him, a thin layer of sweat on your forehead. “Anything,” you whined. Seungkwan’s eyebrow quirked up. “Anything?” he asked.

You nodded, not realizing the implications of your words. “Yes,” you replied. “Anything. I’ll do whatever you ask, just please fuck me.” Seungkwan’s lips curled into a smile as he added a third finger, stretching your walls to prepare you. He glanced down, watching his fingers sink into your heat.

“Alright,” Seungkwan murmured, pulling his fingers from your cunt and bringing his hand to your lips. “Suck,” he ordered, cock twitching as you parted your lips and accepted his fingers into your mouth, licking and sucking them clean. He pulled his fingers from your mouth.

“Keep going,” he continued, moving a hand over his hard cock. You took the hint instantly, pushing him onto his back and slipping your fingers under the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down as he lifted his hips. You licked your lips as his cock sprang up, standing proud.

You wasted no time, taking him in your fist and leaning over, spitting onto the tip and using your saliva to lubricate, your hand started to stroke him quickly. Seungkwan let out a groan, head falling back against the bed as your hand worked him.

When you took the head in your mouth, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven, letting out a pretty pathetic moan but you didn’t seem to mind as you bobbed your head, keeping your fist at the base of his cock. Seungkwan’s hand moved, stroking your hair as he tried to push your head down further but you were firm and stood your ground.

“Please,” he whined, hips starting to buck. You pulled off him with a pop, looking at him as your hand moved up and down his cock. “Be patient,” you reminded him. “You made me wait,” you added. Seungkwan was about to retort when you took him back in your mouth, lips moving down to meet your hand as you continued to stroke him. He let out a groan instead, fingers digging into the bedding beneath him. “Fuck,” he grunted, stomach clenching. “Just like that. Just like that, baby.”

You hummed, your mouth vibrating around Seungkwan’s cock and making him gasp, hips bucking into your face. “Sh-shit!” he breathed. “Sl-slow down, babe.” You pulled him from your mouth, jerking him faster. “M’gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warned. You licked the head of his dick, swirling your tongue around the tip before sinking your mouth back on him.

“Fuck, babe, m’gonna cum,” he warned again. You pulled back, your hand stopping at the base of his cock and letting it fall slightly. Seungkwan let out a whine of protest. “What the hell!” he cried. You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock. “Can’t have you cumming just yet,” you said with a wink.

Seungkwan could have kicked himself. ‘Of course she’s gonna use that against you. Idiot.’

You continued to work him up, bringing him to the brink only to back off and let it slip away from him. Seungkwan was a mess, begging you to stop teasing him and to let him fuck you already.

“Please, baby,” he said, choking back a sob, tears threatening to spill. “Please let me fuck you. I need to be inside you. Please, baby. Please.” Your hand slowed to a stop, lightly squeezing his cock before you sat up. “Okay,” you murmured.

You climbed over him, turning to face away as you planted your hips over his thighs. Seungkwan watched as you grinded backwards against his cock, the sensation of your panties against his throbbing cock almost making him burst into tears. “B-baby. God, fuck. Please. Let me put it in. Let me fuck you. I promise I’ll make you feel so fucking good!”

You scooted back further, reaching down to pull your panties aside and rub your dripping cunt against the underside of Seungkwan’s cock. The glide and friction felt so good, Seungkwan was certain he could have blown his load right then but just as quickly as it started, you lifted off him.

“Y/N, please,” he pleaded as you climbed off him. “Please let me fuck you.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him up as you laid back. “Only if you fuck my thighs first,” you replied, looking up at him through your lashes. Seungkwan melted, moving quickly into position. “O-Okay?” he answered, sounding mildly confused.

You smiled up at him, taking his hand on your knee and placing it between your thighs, pressing it against your soaked panties. “I know you couldn’t get enough of my stockings earlier,” you explained. “You thought you were being slick and that I wouldn’t notice the way you were staring. But I did.”

Seungkwan groaned, moving his thumb to press against your clit through the red lace lingerie.

“And you like this set,” you added, hands moving to cup your breasts. “I noticed the way your eyes lit up when you saw it,” you added. Seungkwan nodded, licking his lips as he brought his free hand up to push one of your hands away, groping your chest. “Fuck,” he said hoarsely. “I do.”

“I fucking love how you look in it.”

You hummed in response, bringing your thighs up. “Then do me a favor and fuck my thighs,” you replied. “And then I’ll let you fuck this pussy. Raw.” Seungkwan choked on his own air as he moved into position, pushing your thighs tighter together. He brought his hand up to his mouth, spitting into it before coating his cock. He guided the head between your thighs, pushing in between them with a groan.

It was so warm and soft. Tight. Almost like fucking you for real.

“Feels so good,” you heard him groan as he pulled back slightly to thrust back in slowly. You felt his saliva smear over your skin as his cock glided between your thighs. “Mmm, that’s it,” you murmured, looking up at him as his eyes fluttered shut, brown knitting together in concentration as he tried to focus.

“That’s good,” you groaned as you felt his cock bump against your cloth covered clit. “Just like that.”

Seungkwan’s fingers dug into your thighs, holding them together tightly as he thrust his hips, fucking between your thighs. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, eyes fluttering open to look down at you. The red lingerie, the black stockings and black garter belt. You were an absolute vision.

“C-can I fuck you now?” Seungkwan asked, tripping over his words as he continued to fuck your thighs. You shook your head, gasping again as you felt his cock nudge against your clit through your panties. “N-not yet-- ah!” you gasped.

Seungkwan took note of your reaction every time his cock brushed against your clit and continued to aim for the same spot. “Come on, princess,” he moaned. “Let me fuck you.” You stared up at him for a moment longer before stopping him.

You sat up, pushing him back against the mattress. You climbed over him, straddling his hips as you reached down, pulling your panties to the side. Seungkwan guided the head of his cock to your entrance, watching as you sank down, cunt enveloping him little by little.

You continued until you were sitting on him, walls gripping his cock tightly. Seungkwan let out a satisfied groan as your walls convulsed around his throbbing length. He wouldn’t last long but he didn’t care. He was inside you again after years. It felt so good. So familiar. So right.

After allowing your walls to relax around him, you placed your hands on his chest, raising your hips only to sink back down, his cock pumping into you. “F-fuck,” you groaned as you sank down, taking more of his cock.

“Ye-yes!” Seungkwan groaned as you started to move fast, bouncing on his cock. The wet sound of his cock entering you repeatedly filled the room, bouncing off the walls and drowning out your breathy moans. You felt his hands grip your hips, trying to speed up your movements.

You slowed to a stop, pushing yourself up until he slipped out of you. “Yah!” Seungkwan protested as you turned to face away, pulling your panties aside and waiting for him to move his cock. Once you felt the tip enter your cunt, you were back to moving, bouncing on his lap, his cock plunging into you.

You felt him grab your hips, one hand moving to massage your ass. “Fuck, we should have done this sooner,” he groaned, hips bucking up to meet your movements. You placed your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you continued to ride him.

“Stay like that,” you heard him groan and felt his weight under you shift as he sat up. “Keep going,” he urged, trying to move your hips. You lifted your ass, sinking back on him. His hands pulling you back when you lifted up. You felt heat pool in your belly, a swelling sensation as tension mounted.

Each matched thrust had you crying out. Seungkwan pulled you off him, moving to kneel behind you before reentering you. “Come on,” he grunted, now meeting your movements with ferocity. “Fuck me like you mean it,” he growled. You let out a mewl, thighs shaking as his hips hit your ass, the slapping growing louder into a clap. “Fuck,” you gasped as Seungkwan pushed your chest down, taking over as he pounded into you from behind.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he growled. “Who’s the one fucking you this good?”

“Yuh-you are!” you stammered. “I am,” he reaffirmed. “I’m fucking you like the good little slut you are. My good little slut. Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?” You nodded, fingers clenching the sheets as you pushed back to meet his movements.

Each thrust drew a little whimper from you, sounds that grew into moans and mewls as Seungkwan continued to fuck you hard. “Who does this pussy belong to?” you heard him ask suddenly, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck and pushing your face down, squishing your cheek against the sheets. “You,” you gasped, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Say it,” Seungkwan commanded.

“It’s yours!” you cried out. “This pussy belongs to you!”

“Fucking right it does. And m’gonna fill it up until you’re dripping. M’gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy, stuff it full, and then fuck it further into you. Pump you full of my cum ‘cause you’re mine. Understand?”

You nodded wordlessly, moan after moan tumbling from your lips onto the sheets along with your drool. “You’re mine and no one else’s! Say it!”

“I-I’m yours! A-and no one else’s!”

You heard Seungkwan groan, hips stuttering as he came, his cock twitching as he painted your walls with his hot thick load. He continued to thrust as he emptied his balls. You whimpered as he didn’t stop, hips still moving as he finally stopped pumping you full.

“Kw-Kwannie, please,” you pleaded. “S-stop. M’so full.”

Seungkwan’s hips came to a stop as he caught his breath. Somewhere between his initial release and the last of his cum spilling into you, your own orgasm had washed over you, rendering you immobile for a few moments as you came down.

You gasped as you felt Seungkwan pull from you, feeling some of his cum mixed with yours slide down the inside of your thigh. “Let me clean that up,” he mumbled. The weight on the bed shifted as he no doubt got up and walked into his bathroom.

He returned moments later, carefully wiping your skin with a warm, damp cloth. He climbed into bed next to you, pulling the covers up over the both of you before you both passed out. The next morning, you awoke to the bluish light of twilight filtering into the room.

You could hear Seungkwan’s soft snores behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist as he slept peacefully. You started to roll over, a deep aching pain settling between your legs and making you wince. ‘We didn’t even go that hard last night,’ you thought to yourself as you peered over your shoulder at Seungkwan, taking in his angelic expression.

You tried to carefully roll in his hold but you jostled him and he started to stir, making you curse internally. You watched as his eyes fluttered open sleepily. When his eyes met yours, he smiled sleepily. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep from having just woken up.

“Morning,” you replied softly. Seungkwan leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips. “My head is killing me,” he whined suddenly and you were glad it wasn’t just you. “We should get some food,” you suggested. “Maybe make some ramyeon.” Seungkwan nodded, rolling onto his back and turning his head to look at the clock. “Later,” he murmured, rolling back to face you, wrapping both arms around your body and pulling you flush against him.

“It’s only half past five in the morning,” he explained, tucking your head under his chin and sighing contentedly. “We can sleep in longer,” he added. You nodded silently, snuggling up next to him. “And then we can make food?” you asked, smiling as you felt him nod. “And then we can make food,” he confirmed.

It was silent only for a few moments before Seungkwan spoke again.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmured, breaking the silence. You smiled, tilting your head to press a kiss to his jawline. “Well, I just moved back to the area,” you replied. “Good,” you heard him murmur. “I don’t think I could survive you leaving again like before.” You felt his lips press against your forehead.

You shook your head, letting out a relieved sigh. “Nah,” you answered.

“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#svthub #ksmutsociety #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan fanfiction #seungkwan fanfic #seungkwan smut #seungkwan x reader #tales from camp holiday special

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multidxni · 2 years

Text

Optional bias x reader

genre: angst, fluff (pretty romantic in the end), smut

warnings: smut18+, dirty talk, blowjob, lots of cussing, praising, unprotected sex

summary: You're having a heated argument with your boyfriend. Again. But this time, little do you know you will end up in his bed, instead of not talking to him for a whole week.

"I'm done fucking talking to you." You spit making your way upstairs, leaving him bothered and hot. Angry, the veins on his neck showing and his breath hitching everytime you raise his voice at him.

"Come back here now! We're not done!" He demands, his voice loud as a shiver runs up your spine.

You don't listen, trying to calm down, walking inside your room, while he's following behind you.

"Why should I spend my time talking nonsense with you? Leave me alone!" You scream back.

"What if I don't wanna leave you alone? Huh?" He asks his voice deeper now.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but ignore the way he makes you feel. "So what are you gonna do?" You think for a moment, then you smirk. "Punish me?" Your voice is calmer and you turn around, facing him.

"What if I do?" He smirks dangerously making goosebumps show up on your whole body. You're sure he can sense you're agitated, but you try to clear your mind, gulping, breathing in.

"Oh yeah?" You get closer, challenging him.

"You won't do shit." Your voice is harsh, your doe eyes saying the opposite as they never leave his.

The eye contact says it all, it's getting too much for the both of you. So intense, mesmerizing...you start to feel dizzy, looking away, catching your breath.

Although you're not sure how convincing you sounded to him, deep inside, you always wanted to challenge him, see his reaction, see what he would do. This is making your insides so warm, that you can barely even breathe. The way he looks at you is enough to make your panties wet on the spot.

You know what he's capable of, that he could fuck you whenever he pleased to, could make you come in seconds with just one finger, could make your back arch until it hurts and your legs shake so that you can't walk the next morning.

You know all of those things. Yet you love the idea of pushing him over the edge with just your words, making him crave for you, with each second passing by, more and more.

The way you're dressed isn't helping him shake his dirty thoughts off. That dress, which was meant for the party you're not going to anymore, is way too short. And he feels like your tits are begging to be freed from the tightness.

"You know what? Why're you pushing it, when you know damn well what I could do to you right now? How do you doubt that I won't touch you right in the next moment...when you look like this?" He whispers lowly, his hands catching your waist, pulling you close to him.

"Look at you...this is driving me mad." His eyes leave your body, now finding your eyes, but the contact only lasts a second, because the next one his lips are already on yours. He's kissing you with all the emotions he held inside him.

And oh God, how he missed this. His hands in your hair, yours around his neck, welcoming him so well, motivating him to keep going, to give you more.

"You know I can't hold back. Not anymore..." He bites his lip, now almost growling.

"Please..." You find yourself speaking up. The loss of his lips and hands on you, makes you whine as you find his shirt, pulling him closer.

The feelings he wakes up in you are hard to describe, but your heart beats so fast and your blood rushes with adrenaline through your veins. You feel alive. You want more of this feeling.

"Please what, love? What do you want, hmm?" He says sweetly.

"Forget what I said I...I-" You begin, starting to lose all confidence you thought you had. All you want right now is him taking control of you.

"C'mon princess we both know you want this. Don't you, now?" He unbuckles his belt.

"Yes. Yes I do. We both know that, but how about you? Huh? You never talk about how you feel! How the fuck should I-"

"Shh." He puts his finger to your lips. "Don't waste your energy anymore, my love. I'll show you exactly how I feel." His voice is like paradise, but the things he says sinful. He pulls his pants down, along with his boxers as you gulp.

You decide to shut up, letting him win. Once again. Just this one more time....right?

He, now naked, unzips your dress, watching it fall to the floor.

He turns off the lights, the only source of light coming from the city lights outside of the big windows.

"Isn't the night view so pretty?" You loose track of your thoughts, not realizing you are daydreaming again.

"You're so much more beautiful. So much more prettier."

He comes up at you and you can only see his tall figure standing in front of you. You're feeling his hot breath on your face and you close your eyes, pulling his face closer to yours.

He kisses you soft and gentle, like it's the first time you kissed. Then it gets messy, needy, tongue involving and lip bitings. Your nails scratch his back as he sucks marks on your neck, following by your tits.

"You're mesmerizing." He wants to fuck you right there, right then in that blink, but he holds back, remembering what he has to do.

"Remember when you told me I won't do shit?"

He smirks. "Oh, I will."

Your eyes widen at his now even deeper voice. Just when you thought he couldn't get more seductive...

"Get on your knees, now." You do as he says, loving the way he is taking over you. This is all you wanted.

Once you're down you give him the most Innocent "fuck me" eyes he has ever seen. You don't do it on purpose... or do you?

"Don't fucking look at me like that." He sighs, wishing he could cum right in that moment, with you like that.

"This is what you're doing to me." He lets his dick jump out of his boxers and your mouth waters.

He has the most prettiest dick you've ever seen. Veiny, thick and long ...but you would never admit it out loud.

"Like what you see?" He asks through his teeth.

You can only moan in response.

"Pleasure me darlin'. Make me cum." He lets his head fall back on the wall, as your eyes never leave his face.

You find your cheeks heating up as your hands find their way to his dick, jerking him up and down a few times.

He groans, looking down at you from time to time, his eyebrows furried together.

"Baby." He moans then cussing out.

You take his tip into your mouth, tasting his precum. You're teasing him with your tongue only, before sucking and finally taking him into your mouth.

"Ohh love." The sounds he lets out are so shamelessly loud and deep, but he couldn't care less.

He focuses on the way your mouth is so hot and your tongue teasing him.

He focuses on the echoing noises heard in the room, coming from your actions and his moans.

He focuses on your eyes, now full of tears and the way you blink them away, giving your best to him, making sure you make him feel like no one else could make him feel.

Oh, you look so good like that, he's sure he'll imagine this moment all over again when he's alone.

"Y/n...I can't- I'll cum in your pretty mouth baby. Is that okay?" He whines the last words.

You moan in responce, sending vibrations through his dick and the feeling in his stomach builds up.

"Oh, oh fuck." He groans releasing into your mouth, down your throat.

Sweating, panting, you find the way to each other's lips again. You kiss him so desperately, and he understands what you need without words.

"You're amazing, you know that?" He praises.

You chuckle and he lies you down on the bed.

"How am I so lucky?" His eyes sparkle and you find yourself get lost in them.

He kisses you, deciding it's his favorite thing in the world to do. Everytime your tongue touches his, your stomach burns and you moan into his mouth.

"You should wear that dress more often." He whispers in your ear, goosebumps showing up on your body.

Your impatience takes the best of you, as you flip him over, getting on top of him.

He smirks, his eyes never leaving yours, his hands on your butt.

"But I like you better without it anyways." He decides, kissing your neck, your breasts in his mouth the next minute.

You pull his hair starting to feel dizzy, lust present in both of your eyes.

"Kiss me baby." He tells you, his voice so sexy you swear he didn't even finish the sentence before your lips were on his.

"I love you." He lets out his hands in your hair, on your chest, butt, everywhere.

"I love you." You say panting as you align with his dick.

He pushes the tip inside and you let out tiny whines, watching it slide into your wetness.

You soon let out all the cusses you can think off, riding him, faster and faster.

"That's it babe. Yeah, just like that." He groans, hugging your body close, your foreheads touching.

"Keep going, ohh." He hits that spot again and again in you, everytime you move down.

"I'm...close- fuck." You say a moaning mess.

Your head falls on his shoulder as you move up and down on him, so close to releasing.

"Look at me, look at me and c-cum for me." He demands, holding your hands in his.

His voice and the wet noises send you over the edge when you let out the longest, loudest moan, cumming all on his dick. Your eyes stay focused on his as he releases into you praising you with words of love.

"You're so perfect. And you're mine." He smiles, pulling you into a slow kiss full of love.

"What a great combo." You let out laughing, hugging his big naked body.

He makes a note in his mind, that he should annoy you more if it comes to this, smiling uncontrollably as you're too tired to even move.

Pressing little kisses on his chest, you feel yourself get sleepy. He caresses your body, plays with your hair, quietly singing to you.

You feel peaceful, falling asleep and as he realizes, he feels happier than he has ever been, knowing he loves you more than he had ever loved somebody in his whole life.

"I love you so much." He whispers altought he knows you're sleeping. "My angel. I'll love you forever."

💟

#kpop #foryoupage #kpopidol #nct #bts fluff #bts jimin #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jimin fluff #optional bias #crush x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz smut #bts smut #han x reader #hyunjin x reader #lee know x reader

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wheresarizona · 1 year

Text

September Part 4

Jackson House of Worship, 2024

summary: Joel Miller didn’t get a chance to marry you twenty years ago, and now that you’re back together, he’s not wasting any more time—especially after you both bared your souls the night before, revealing your darkest secrets to make your bond unbreakable.

rating: Explicit (18+! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (10 years), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, dirty talk, praise kink (Joel gets called a good boy), spit mention, spanking, Joel should’ve stuck to missionary, flashback to the first meeting, handwavey medical jargon, mention of period typical sexism, emotions, tons of banter, LOTS of fluff, wedding, Ellie taking her best man duties seriously, Ellie’s handkersleeves, sweet Joel & Ellie father-daughter moments, Tommy being a little shit, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, dancing with Joel, Joel playing guitar, angst with a happy ending, confessions, emotional hurt/comfort, talk of pregnancy loss (stillbirth), talk of child loss, grief/mourning, talk of suicide attempt (Joel), TLOU tv/game spoilers)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader (reader is a doctor with no physical descriptions)

word count: 24.8k+ (This is who I am.)

a/n: I apologize for the delay in getting this done—March was not great for me. A lot of people wanted Joel to find out about the baby, and oh boy, does he. This chapter is emotional; you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll feel all warm and fuzzy, you’ll swoon, and you’ll have a good time. Shoutout to the love of my life, @juletheghoul, for being by my side through this whole thing. This is unbeta'd all mistakes are my own.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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July 2002 - Austin, Texas

The clinic wasn’t your first pick for where you wanted to do your residency to become a doctor; it wasn’t even your fifteenth choice. You applied to fifty programs across the entire country, hoping for a bustling hospital in a big city or a large clinic somewhere you could have the opportunity to explore different specialties—pediatrics calling to you, but also interested in internal medicine and surgery. And yet, out of fifty applications, the place that accepted you was a family medicine clinic in Austin, Texas.

But what had you expected? You weren’t a prime candidate due to being a lot younger than others fresh out of medical school, and the real nail in the coffin is you’re a woman; gender bias in the medical field is absolutely astounding.

So, here you are in this clinic with its beige walls and oak wood accents, sitting at a desk reading over the chart of a patient the attending physician said would be easy enough for you to handle on your own, with it only being your second week in the program.

The patient is Joel Miller, a thirty-four-year-old male complaining of knee pain. This is his follow-up appointment after he had scans done the previous week, and your job is to go over the treatment plan the physician has already decided on.

Your nose crinkles at the other doctor’s notes, seeing he isn’t offering a long-term solution but instead is basically shoving a band-aid over a gaping wound that will progressively get worse over time. That wouldn’t do; already figuring out better options in your mind that would have lasting effects and offer relief—that’s something that drew you to medicine in the first place, always having to solve puzzles, making your brain work to help people and save lives.

You’re interrupted by Janis, the nurse who you’re pretty sure hates you, though you don’t know why glaring as she lets you know the patient is ready to see you. Maybe she’s just one of those people with resting bitch face, and you shouldn’t take it personally, except she’s so cold towards you. There isn’t anything you can do about it. Shrugging it off as you get up from your chair, your white coat on and stethoscope hanging around your neck, making your way to room four with the chart in hand.

There are many facts you know about the man you’re seeing: his name, age, occupation, vitals, what the inside of both his knees look like—knocking softly on the door twice, you enter, closing it behind you for privacy—those details hadn’t prepared you for what he looks like. When your eyes land on him sitting on the edge of the exam table, you pause, struck by how handsome he is—brown waves of hair, big chocolate-colored eyes, plush lips, ridiculously broad shoulders that have the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing hugging his chest sinfully.

You gulp, mentally berating yourself for finding a patient attractive, reminding yourself you’re here to do a job to help him feel better, quickly regaining your composure and offering your name.

“...I’ll be your doctor today,” you tell him.

His eyes round, mouth falling open before he catches himself and closes it, seeing that gorgeous throat of his work as he swallows.

You need to stop noticing his attractiveness—he’s a patient.

“Doctor…?” he asks slowly, with a drawl you’re becoming familiar with.

The surprise is clear on his face, which is something you’re used to, the walls rising inside you, readying yourself for a fight because either he’s going to be okay with you taking care of him, or he’ll be a dick and demand another, older, male, doctor—which has happened multiple times this week and is why you’ve only treated a dozen or so patients.

Your chin rises as you reply with a nod, “Yes. I’ll be handling your care.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just I can’t believe you’re a doctor.”

Your eyebrow quirks.

“Because I’m a woman? Young?”

He shakes his head as he speaks, “‘Cause you’re so beautiful.”

That’s an unexpected response that has you so taken aback that your breath hitches, trying to control the butterflies that are wildly fluttering around in your tummy.

His eyes get big, realizing what he said, quickly backtracking, flush staining his cheeks as he looks away. “I am so sorry, ma’am,” he says. “It’s rude of me to be commentin’ on your looks when you’re just doin’ your job. You probably think I’m some creep.”

This poor man is beating himself up about saying the nicest thing anyone’s said to you all week.

“I don’t think you’re a creep,” you reassure him. His eyes meet yours, him gauging if what you’re saying is true, so you smile. “You’re honestly very sweet. A lot of people have a hard time getting over my age or that I’m a female in a male-dominated profession, so you thinking I’m too beautiful is a lovely change and also wonderful for my self-esteem.” You laugh.

His lips curl up.

“Well, I’m happy you’re not kickin’ me out. You bein’ a young woman doesn’t bother me—wish my daughter was here so she could see that if she wanted, she could be like you one day.”

The sincerity of his words has your chest going tight. In med school, a doctor told your class to let the patient ramble at the start of the appointment for five minutes because you’ll learn quite a lot about them. Usually, it’s things about their lifestyle or what’s actually causing them issues. What you now know about Joel Miller is that he’s respectful, a sweetheart, and a caring father—you’re fucked, realizing your eyes are drifting to his left hand, happy that you don’t see a ring.

Not that it means anything to you. He’s your patient. You need to focus.

“How old is your daughter?” you ask.

That’s a safe question. It’s important to build rapport and trust, plus you’re genuinely curious and want to know more about him to ensure you give him the best care—at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

He visibly brightens, and it’s adorable.

“She’s twelve, turnin’ thirteen Saturday after next. Her name’s Sarah and I can’t believe how quickly she’s growin’—feels like just yesterday she was havin’ me check under her bed for monsters.” He has a fond expression on his face.

“Wow, you’re gonna have a teenager. Are you and your wife planning a big party for her?”

There’s no way he’s single, not that it matters to you.

“No wife, or girlfriend, for that matter. Sarah wanted a slumber party with her friends, so I’ll be hidin’ away in my room alone watchin’ a movie or somethin’.”

It shouldn’t excite you to hear he doesn’t have a partner, but there’s a thrill moving through you.

“Sounds like my ideal Saturday night—just relaxing watching tv or a movie.”

“Yeah?” He smiles. “We got somethin’ in common, then.” He scratches at the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. “I, uh, wanna apologize again. You just caught me off guard, is all—was expectin’ Dr. Carlson with his bad combover.” There’s a smirk on his face when he continues, “But you’re a nice surprise.”

“Because I’m easier on the eyes?” you tease.

Don’t flirt with the patient!

“Yes,” he chuckles.

It’s time to focus on your job and not how his eyes twinkle, clearing your throat as you approach him.

“So, Mr. Miller—“

“Please call me Joel,” he interrupts.

You smile.

“Okay, Joel, I was looking over your chart, and you're having pain in both knees?”

“That’s correct.”

Pulling your pen from your pocket, you ask, “Has it gotten worse since last week? Feel any different?”

“No, ma’am.”

You jot down his answer.

“Well, that’s good.” Your eyes land on his. “May I take a look?” you ask, pointing your pen at his lower half.

“Of course.” He nods enthusiastically. “Look, touch, do anythin’ you want to me, I don’t mind.” He grimaces, whispering to himself, “Jesus, I’m embarrassin’.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips past your lips.

“You’re okay, Joel,” you say, putting away your pen and moving to set the chart down on the nearby counter opposite the exam table to wash your hands in the sink.

He lets out a long sigh.

“It’s been a while,” he says. “I’ve forgotten how to talk to women.”

“That’s gotta be a problem with fifty-one percent of the population being female,” you reply as you dry off your hands with a paper towel, tossing it in the trash when you’re done.

He snorts, you turning around and seeing the amused look on his face.

“I’ve forgotten how to talk to women I think are pretty.”

“Well, thank goodness we’re having no issue holding a conversation.”

“It’s taking a whole helluva lot of effort with your gorgeous eyes lookin’ at me.”

Heat is crawling up your neck to your face, focusing on getting your bearings back together. Taking a few steps, you’re close with a little bit of space, needing to get the appointment back on track.

“So, I’m going to examine your knees over your jeans. If I need to, can I push them up your legs?” you ask.

“Want me to take them off?” he asks eagerly.

It makes you laugh, him smiling.

“There’s no need for you to strip.”

“You sure?” he asks with a crooked smile.

“Positive,” you answer, winking.

What is wrong with you? You need to stop flirting with him. He’s a patient! You’re the embarrassing one here. It’s like something inside you shifts when you look down at his right knee, going into doctor mode, brain whirling as you gently touch it over his jeans. Joel tenses, a reaction that furrows your eyebrows, meeting his eyes.

“Does it hurt when I touch here?”

There shouldn’t be any pain based on the scans; if there is, you’ll need to have more imagining done.

“No.” He shakes his head.

“Okay. I need you to tell me if anywhere I touch hurts.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Your attention is back on what you’re doing, processing what you’re feeling under your fingertips, having him extend his leg so you can see his range of motion, Joel’s face pinching in pain, which you expected.

“I’m going to push up your jeans.”

“You go right ahead.”

Getting them up to his thigh, Joel shivers when you touch his warm skin.

“Sorry about my hands being cold,” you murmur, pressing into the back of his knee to feel his ligaments and tendons, comparing in your mind to what you saw on the scans with how it feels.

“Your hands are nice—soft,” he replies in a gentle tone.

The doctor-patient relationship is sacred and an essential part of healthcare, built on trust, respect, communication, and common understanding. You swore to follow certain ethical guidelines to ensure that your patient gets the highest level of care. Things might be flirty with Joel and you, but his health is your main priority—it’s your job, and you’re not going to cross a line, even if he’s tempting you like forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden. While he’s your patient, that’s all he’ll be and nothing more. You’re focused, being thorough, and checking for anything that’s out of the ordinary.

“You don’t have to answer,” he says, “I know it’s a personal question, but how old are you..?”

You’re busy working, answering distractedly, “Twenty-four.”

“Jesus,” he gasps. “And you’re already a doctor?”

There’s slight swelling but no tears that you can tell—everything matches the imaging.

“I have the degree,” you say. “This is the first year of my residency—basically, I’m a doctor in training, but I’ve treated people.”

There’s a curious expression on his face when you finally glance at him.

“I’m just thinkin’ about all the schoolin’. Are you a bit… younger?”

Smiling, you answer, “Yes. I did a lot of work to get my degree sooner—basically zero life outside of school for the past six years.”

He looks impressed.

“Christ, smart and beautiful, your boyfriend’s a lucky guy.”

“My boyfriend is non-existent—was too busy with school. Well, no changes in this knee from last week—” You pull his pant leg back down. “—so that’s good. Let me check the other.” You move, immediately pushing up his jeans this time. “Does one hurt worse than the other?” you ask, going through the same exam as you did on the other, checking his motion and behind his knee.

“Uh, nope. Both hurt the same. Sarah says it’s ‘cause I’m old,” he chuckles.

“Has Sarah thought about becoming a doctor?”

As you thought, this knee doesn’t have any changes either.

“No—she wants to be a singer.”

You finish, putting his pants back in place, straightening your spine as you look at him.

“Well, she’s got a knack for medicine—she diagnosed you.”

He frowns.

“The pain is because of my age…?”

“It’s a big contributing factor along with the wear and tear from the work you do.”

He runs a hand through his hair, sighing loudly.

“You must think I’m an old man.”

“I don’t.” You shake your head. “You’re only a little older than me.”

He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Ten years is a lot.”

“Not really.” You shrug. “And you’re in excellent shape aside from your knees, but that’s bound to be an issue with your job.”

There’s a change in how he’s looking at you, and it has you gulping, watching him slide his thumb over his bottom lip like he wants your attention to go there, getting his wish, not able to stop yourself from wondering if his lips are as soft as they look.

“You, uh, think I’m in excellent shape?” His voice has gone deeper, ignoring the simmering heat in your belly.

“Ye-yes,” you stutter. He’s smirking, and you need to get back into safe territory, clearing your throat before you start speaking, “So, let me go over what we’re gonna do to help with the pain.”

From the look on his face, he’s disappointed, which confuses you, not understanding his reaction.

A tired sigh comes from him before he says, “I’m assumin’ medication, then?”

Oh, he thinks you’re going to give him a prescription for pain relief instead of actually treating him. It’s a common issue with doctors who are up to their ears in patients—instead of taking the time to figure out the root of the cause and treat it accordingly, they just write out a prescription to make the patient comfortable, a temporary solution, that has them coming back again, and again. Dr. Carlson’s plan was medication for Joel.

You’re moving to pick up his chart, your eyes scanning over the information, and turning the page, seeing that this is his sixth visit this year, and it’s only July—imaging wasn’t even ordered until last week.

“How long have you been dealing with this pain?” you ask.

“Last couple of years, I started gettin’ achy. Then in, uh, December of last year, there was a big job I was workin’ on—twelve-hour days for almost three weeks straight, and they started hurtin’ real bad.”

Your blood is boiling that he’s had to suffer for so long.

There’s a serious expression on your face when you look at him.

“There are other things we can do that will be long-term. With you being a single dad, the sole provider for Sarah, and working a manual labor job, I don’t think you’ll have time to commit to physical therapy, and I wouldn’t want to take away from your quality time with her.”

He looks surprised before his expression softens.

“What are you thinkin’, Doc?”

You smile warmly, jumping into what you planned that he can do at home, Joel listening intently as you explain each of the things in detail, him nodding along, seeming to like what you’re saying.

“You think it’ll work?” he asks when you finish.

“I do.” You nod. “It’s just keeping up on the exercises—we need to strengthen and stretch those muscles to assist with joint movement, and the other things I suggested will help with the swelling and give you some relief.”

He’s nodding. “I understand—do the exercises. Don’t wanna let you down.”

You pull a small notepad from your jacket pocket, placing it over the chart as you start writing out your treatment instructions, replying, “You shouldn’t be worrying about me.”

“Maybe I wanna worry about you. You’re the first doctor that’s actually cared about helpin’ me. Gonna have to come here more often to see you since you take such great care of me.”

“I’m not your primary physician.” You’re almost finished writing. “You’d end up seeing Dr. Carlson.”

“What if you became my primary doctor?”

Tearing off the page, you hold it out to him, his hand taking it.

There’s something here between you two, a connection you can feel, so you tell him truthfully, “Then all I could and would be is your doctor.”

Understanding dawns on him.

“Oh, is the appointment over?”

“Do you have any other concerns?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then the appointment is over. If you have any other issues or questions, please reach out to Dr. Carlson. It’s been a pleasure helping you today, and if there’s nothing else, you’re more than welcome to leave.”

He gets down from the table, groaning when he stands up straight, folding up your note and putting it in his pocket.

Thinking there’s nothing else he wants to say and not acknowledging the disappointment that feels like a stone in your belly, you make your way toward the door.

“Wait,” he says. You stop, turning around to face him. “I have a question.”

Taking a couple of steps closer to him, you ask, “What’s your question?”

He closes the distance, stopping when he’s taking up your vision, focusing on his big brown eyes, noticing his spicy cologne that has you feeling warm. He scratches at the back of his neck, looking nervous.

“Well,” he starts, “since I’m no longer your patient and you’re not my doctor, I’m not usually this forward, and I know I don’t have a chance in hell, but I’m wonderin’ if you’d wanna give an old guy like me a shot at takin’ you out?”

Happiness thrums in your veins that he asks, unable to help when a laugh sputters from you, quickly covering your mouth, his cheeks going red, looking unsure and embarrassed. You quickly apologize, “Sorry! I’m not laughing at you for asking me out—I want to go out with you.” That makes him perk up, rewarding you with a dimpled grin. “It’s just you said I was the first doctor to actually help you, and you’d rather date me than have me take care of you. It’s sweet but also hilarious.” You’re laughing again.

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, the other perched on his hip, keeping his weight to one side.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are a lot more doctors out there—sure, I can find another, but I’ve only ever met one you, and I’m not gonna miss my opportunity to get to know you better.”

It feels like your skin is buzzing, so caught off guard by how genuine he is, seeing it in those dark eyes of his.

“How are you single?”

Is there something you’re missing? Some deep dark secret? He seems so perfect and adorable. It makes zero sense that he’s unattached.

There’s a sad smile on his face.

“Not a lot of women are into single dads.”

“That’s a lie—I’m very into single dads.”

He laughs, a beautiful flush crawling up his neck.

“I’m happy to hear that. Can I get your number?” he asks, pulling out a Nokia phone from his pocket and holding it out to you. “I just got this.”

“Of course.”

Taking it, you punch in the numbers, saving them to his contacts before giving it back. He looks at the little screen, hitting some buttons.

“‘Doc’?” he asks amusedly, meeting your eyes. “Why not your name?”

“Can’t take the risk of a handsome guy like you meeting another girl with my name—need to make sure I stand out,” you answer with a wink.

“No other woman is like you. I only want your number.”

“You’re really laying it on thick,” you tease. “I can assure you that you’ve successfully seduced me, and I really want to go out with you.”

He smiles.

“Good. I really wanna go out with you, too. What time are you off?”

“Seven.”

“Can I call you later?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Then I will.”

“I can’t wait.”

The joy is evident on his face, and you know you’re wearing a matching expression.

He holds out his hand as he says, “It’s been a pleasure meetin’ you today, Doc.” Holding his chart with one arm, you shake his offered palm that engulfs your smaller one. “You’re already a mighty fine doctor.” He winks, bringing your hand up to place a soft, chaste kiss on the back of it, his gaze staying on yours. Your skin tingles, and your body feels like it's burning from the inside out as your jaw goes slack.

Your voice is rough when you say, “You are a liar, Joel Miller.”

His eyebrows dip together, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“You said you’d forgotten how to talk to women, and that is not true—not even a little bit. Got me thinking about kissing your stupidly perfect face.”

He crookedly grins.

“Stupidly perfect?”

“Yes,” you groan.

“And you wanna kiss it?”

He gets closer, your bodies practically pressing together.

“Yes.”

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, leaning into his touch, his eyes moving from your own to your lips, the tension rising, thinking he might go for it and hoping he will.

His voice goes lower, “Then we better go out soon.” He takes a small step back, putting space between you, your heart pounding hard in your chest. “You busy tomorrow night?”

“No,” you breathe.

“Off at the same time?”

“No.” You shake your head. “It’s a half day.”

“Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Yes.” You nod.

He smiles brightly.

“It’s a date. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Doc.”

“Bye, Joel.”

He brings your hand up to kiss the back of it one more time and leaves you standing there in a daze, thankful that out of fifty applications across the entire United States, this was the clinic that accepted you, inadvertently introducing you to Joel Miller.

Spring 2024 - Jackson, Wyoming

For a cold night, the house is comfortably warm, the room illuminated in a soft glow by the bedside lamp, the sky outside dark and hidden by the closed blinds—Joel’s on his knees on the bed, your legs resting over his arms keeping them spread with his hands tightly gripping onto your hips, holding your ass up as he fucks into you hard.

The nap had lasted a couple of hours, the front of your body snug against his back, his fingers intertwined with yours over his heart, kissing his bare shoulders when you woke. Water was drunk, some food was eaten from the rations in your pack, and the next thing you knew, Joel’s face was buried between your legs.

Now, he’s grunting as he pounds into you, his thick cock pushing into that one heavenly spot that only he’s been able to find with his eyebrows furrowed and teeth bared—your head is dizzy with pleasure, fire burning so brightly in your belly that it’s going to explode at any second.

You’re gasping moans, your fingers digging into the bedspread, feeling so fucking close to coming, every thrust having the muscles in your stomach winding tighter and tighter.

“Come on, baby,” he says through gritted teeth. “Let me fuckin’ have it—you feel so fuckin’ good. Fuck, wanna feel you come.”

“Close,” you whine. “Oh, fuck.” Your body is starting to writhe, not able to control yourself. “You’re fucking me so good, Joel. Oh, god. Gonna come.”

The slap of his hips echoes in the room, the sound magnified by how wet you are, filling the air with the loud squelch of your cunt mixing with rough sounds coming from Joel’s throat and your breathy noises.

The heat builds in the pit of your stomach, growing hotter and thicker until stars are dancing at the edge of your vision, coming with a shout of his name.

“There it fuckin’ is,” he groans, “My good girl—I fuckin’ love you.”

Your body seizes up, the pleasure starting deep in your center and radiating out through your limbs, feeling it spread to the tips of your fingers and toes, your mind going hazy. Joel slows to a grind, letting you feel every ridge and vein of his throbbing dick, working you through your high.

The orgasm ebbs and your body continues to tremble—opening your eyes to meet his lust-blown gaze, a lazy smile on his lips.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks.

Smiling dreamily, you answer, “Yeah, babe. Feel fucking amazing. You’ve always known how I like to be fucked.”

“Yeah, I do,” he rasps, slowly thrusting, “and I know you got one more in ya.” He slaps your hip, making you gasp when he pulls out, letting your legs fall to the bed. “Hands and knees, baby,” he says, helping you get into position, your body thrumming in excitement, knowing what’s to come.

Your knees sink into the mattress, hips up, forearms resting against the pillow just how he wants you, looking over your shoulder to watch him grab onto the flesh of your ass, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” he says, spreading open your asscheeks, the bed jostling as he moves. His face gets close, moaning when you feel him spit onto your entrance, the hot saliva mixing with your slick and come, your eyes closing, facing forward once more.

He straightens up, wasting no time to press back inside you in one smooth thrust, gasping at how he stretches you. It was something you’d never tire of, the way he fills you and how your body makes space to have him fitting all nice and snug, sliding perfectly along your sensitive walls.

His hands are grabbing onto your hips, digging in his fingers as he starts moving, soft sounds falling from your lips with each push and pull of his cock inside you. He sets a punishing pace, hearing the dull smack of your bodies colliding and his balls slapping into your clit, him grunting in exertion with how hard he’s slamming into you.

Your head falls forward, pressing it into the cushiony pillow, him turning you into a whimpering, drooling mess at how good it feels, the familiar heat in your core growing, expanding, as he fucks you into the mattress.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he grits out, his hand landing on your asscheek in a resounding smack that has your cunt clenching. “You’re so fuckin’ wet.”

He’s making your ass jiggle and thighs quiver with every hard thrust, whining in reply, “Yes, Joel. So good.”

You have to push back to keep him from fucking you into the headboard, your arms trembling, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your end.

His hand leaves your hip to massage your clit, making you keen, the jolts of electricity ramping you up and setting every nerve in your body ablaze, clawing at the pillow for something to hold onto.

You’re so close—everything he’s doing to you builds you up until you fall over the edge, chanting his name as the waves of euphoria spread through you.

“My good fuckin’ girl,” Joel groans, grabbing your hips once more to fuck you through your climax, going harder to extend it—snapping into you with abandon. It makes your head spin, and feels like the pleasure just keeps going and going—

He comes to a sudden stop with a hiss—pulling out, the bed jostles as he falls onto it beside you on his back. You’re coming down from your high, turning your head to see his chest heaving as he catches his breath with his eyes closed. Reaching over, you pat his flushed, sweaty chest.

“Tire yourself out?” you mumble.

“Yeah,” he pants.

“Shoulda listened to Tommy and stuck to missionary, you old man.”

His head turns a fraction toward you, opening one eye with a grumpy expression on his face, grumbling, “Don’t be fuckin’ mean.” You laugh when he pinches your hip, your body crumpling flat onto the mattress.

“I’m sorry, babe,” you giggle, scooting over to him to throw your arm over his stomach and rest your head over his heart, leaning up to kiss his chin.

“Liar,” he replies.

“I’m not lying,” you say into his skin. “I am a little sorry.”

“Good—did I, uh, tire you out?” he asks.

You snort.

“Need me to get on top and finish you off?”

His cock is still hard and resting on his belly, wetting his skin in your slick.

He lets out a long sigh. “...Yeah.”

“Say no more,” you reply, kissing his stubble.

With a groan, you’re moving to straddle his hips, one hand on his chest to hold yourself up, the other moving to grab his dick to notch him at your opening, him twitching in your palm. It’s a reflex when his big hands land on your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles into your soft skin.

“Fuckin’ love when you’re on top,” he rasps, his glazed-over gaze on yours.

“‘Cause you like watching my tits bounce.”

He’s unable to reply, his mouth falling open as you sink down on him, your eyes fluttering closed at how he feels so much bigger like this, your thighs meeting when you bottom out.

“God, I love your dick,” you moan, both hands on his chest, rolling your hips, adjusting to the fullness.

His voice is strained when he replies, “I know you do—always hungry for my dick.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his face out of my pussy—fuck,” you gasp, tilting your hips to have him press into something divine.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Gotta make up for lost time.” One of his hands moves to your center, pressing his thumb to your clit it making pleasure spark in your belly. “You wanna come again?” he asks.

Meeting his eyes, you shake your head, “No,” you answer. “I’m spent. Another, and I know I’ll pass the fuck out.”

He smirks. “Nothin’ wrong with that.”

Your eyebrow raises.

“Except that you’d have to get yourself off with your hand—I’m good, babe. It’s your turn.”

“Okay.”

His hand goes back to your hip, your inner walls fluttering around him, starting to move up and down, rising on your knees and falling over and over, his eyes locking on your chest with his jaw slack.

“Fuck,” he groans. “So fuckin’ beautiful. Lean down, baby.”

It makes you grin. Of course, he wants you to lean down.

Your hands move to either side of his head to hold yourself up, riding him in earnest, not surprised when he palms your breasts. His fingers tease your stiff nipples, rolling and pinching them, causing electricity to shiver down your spine, breathily moaning as you work him over, feeling the sheen of sweat coating your skin and your thighs beginning to burn. There’s a beautiful flush covering him, his golden skin glistening in the lamplight, wanting to lick the drops of perspiration along the column of his throat. He feels so good inside of you, his cock moving in and out of you, going at a rhythm he likes, his face screwed up like he’s in pain, knowing he’s getting close with the rough noises he’s making.

“Kiss me,” he pants.

Lowering your face, you hover your lips over his. “Aren’t you needy,” you say between heavy breaths, nudging his nose with your own. “You want me to kiss you?”

“Please,” he croaks out, looking absolutely wrecked.

“My good boy asking so nicely.” He moans loudly, feeling his cock jerk. You give him what he wants, capturing his mouth in a kiss, pressing your lips forcefully to his while you keep rutting against him, his hands squeezing your breasts.

It’s loud between your legs, hearing the wet sounds of you moving on him.

“‘M close,” he murmurs into your lips, making you go harder, your heart pounding in your chest.

It doesn’t take much more for his big hands to finally grab onto your hips, pulling you down all the way to be flush with him, a dirty, low groan spilling from his throat as he comes—his dick twitching, the warmth of his spend filling your inner depths.

You’re wrung out, your head falling into the crook of his neck, panting hot breaths into his skin, Joel sounding just as winded, hugging his arms around you to hold you close.

Minutes you lay wrapped up in each other, your heartbeats slowing together, comfortable, happy, neither of you wanting to move.

Exhaustion is creeping up on you, afraid you’ll fall asleep. Your voice is muffled when you say, “Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m old.”

He swats your ass. “Stop that. You’re not old.”

“Joel, I want to sleep—I’m old,” you sigh. “I’m too tired to fuck.”

He sighs, too, replying, “Fuck, I’m tired, too—bone fuckin’ tired. That doesn’t mean we’re old.”

A memory comes to you. “Remember that one weekend Tommy watched Sarah? You’d been swamped with work the week before, and according to him, you were an absolute asshole because you needed to get laid, so when the job was done, he told you to stay with me all weekend, and we literally fucked the entire time?”

You’d barely left your bed.

“That was a good weekend.” You can hear him smiling.

“It was. We barely slept and fucked like rabbits. Joel, we didn’t even last all of tonight. Face it, babe, we’re old.”

“We just need a good night’s rest, and we could easily go all night.”

“Sure, babe—“ You lightly pat his cheek “—just some sleep, and we can go all night like we’re twenty years younger.”

“That’s what I said, and I know I’m right.”

“You’re cute,” you say, moving to kiss his jaw. “I gotta get up and go to the bathroom—I’ll grab us some water.”

“Mmkay.”

Unwrapping his arms, you carefully got up with a groan, the bed squeaking as you maneuvered off of it.

Your first stop was the en suite to take care of your needs and clean yourself up, relishing in the delicious ache between your legs at being thoroughly fucked. Next was doing the same walk of shame that Joel had taken earlier, not bothering to put on any clothes as you padded down to the first floor to refill your cups, returning with them full of water.

Your eyebrows dip together when you get back into the bedroom, finding Joel in the same spot you left him—his head is cushioned on a pillow, his eyes closed, completely still, seeing his chest's steady rise and fall.

Normally, he would’ve gotten up to clean himself up and use the bathroom.

Did he pass out?

You set the glasses on the bedside table next to him. “Joel?” you whisper. “Did you fall asleep?”

You’re afraid that if you touch him, you might startle him.

“No.” He says the word clearly.

Stepping closer to the bed, you push his messy hair away from his face.

“You just comfortable?” you ask.

“...no.”

Well, the slight pause has alarm bells ringing in your head.

“What do you mean?” You stroke your hand over his cheek. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He lets out a really long breath, finally blinking open his eyes to look at you, a frown on his lips.

“Don’t make fun of me…”

Oh, god, he’s hurt. Immediately you’re looking over his body for any sign of injury, noting that his breaths are even, your fingers moving against his neck to feel the steady thump of his pulse.

“What’s wrong?” you ask again.

“I… can’t move,” he answers, grimacing.

That narrows things down. “Jesus Christ, Joel. Hips or back?”

“Back—pulled somethin’. Fuckin’ hurts to move.”

Your brain is making quick work on how you will treat him, remembering you saw some ice in the freezer.

“Well, at least you didn’t break a hip,” you murmur. “Tommy and Ellie would’ve never let you live it down.”

That grumpy expression comes over his face.

“My hips are fuckin’ fine,” he grouses. “Just gotta lay here for a bit, and I’ll be okay.”

“Um, no,” you reply. “You’re not laying here and suffering.” Grabbing a glass of water, you ask, “First, I need you to drink something. Does it hurt to lift your neck?”

His frown becomes more pronounced, him lifting up as much as he can, and your hand immediately going behind his head to help him up, the other bringing the cup to his lips and tilting it for him to drink. Once he’d drunk the whole thing, he laid back against the pillow again.

“Thank you, baby.” He looks so sad, and it has you putting the glass back onto the table before cupping his cheeks and leaning down to kiss him softly.

Breaking it, you look him in the eyes, smiling. “You’re welcome, and don’t be upset. I believe you said it was sexy that I could treat your sex injuries, and I’ll have you feeling better in no time.”

His eyes are big. “I know you will,” he says softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, I gotta flip you over to make sure it is a pulled muscle and you didn’t slip a disk or something worse.”

“Okay,” he sighs.

Helping him get onto his stomach involves him making a lot of pained sounds and muttering ‘fuck,’ repeatedly. Luckily, after a quick exam, you confirmed it was just lower back strain.

Earlier in the evening, Tommy had dropped off a bag filled with clothes. Rummaging through it, you found a white t-shirt that was clearly meant for Joel that you put on before going downstairs to grab some ice that you wrapped in a small towel.

When you got back to your injured fiancé, you applied the cold compress to help reduce the pain and swelling.

You’re lying beside him, your hand holding the ice to where his pain is, his head turned toward you.

“I refilled the ice tray,” you say. “We just need to do this every three or four hours over the next couple of days, and you’ll have to take it easy. No strenuous activity.”

“Yes, Doc,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You wanted to fuck for a couple of days.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” you reassure. “I was dreaming big and did not account for the fact that I am no longer an energetic twenty-something. Honestly, I am so fucking exhausted. I think everything is catching up to me—saving Ellie, finding you, us walking here to Jackson. I want to sleep for days. Then there’s the fact you fucked me so good, I’m gonna need some time to recover—I’m sore.”

“We overdid it.” He lets out a breath.

“We overdid it.” You nodded.

“But it was good..?” He looks hopeful.

You smile. “So fucking good—worth the pain.”

“Yeah?” He smirks.

“Yeah.”

“I reckon it was worth the pain.”

Once his back is iced, he’s able to get up, and you both take a quick shower together, deciding to call it a night. Joel’s protective instincts have him sleeping closest to the door with a gun and knife on the bedside table, you nestled into his left side, your leg hitched up on his thigh, resting your head over his heart, the strong beats so calming that it has you relaxing. There’s no doubt that you’ll sleep more than a few hours—you’re beyond tired and sated, so comfortable and happy that your mind is already beginning to drift. Add in Joel’s fingers sliding along the bare skin over your ribs, the shirt you’re wearing pushed up under your breasts, and you’re in heaven.

It’s the early hours of the morning, the room is dark and quiet, save for your even breaths filling the air.

His voice is gentle and barely above a whisper, “Baby?”

“Hmmm?”

“In the shower, you asked about my scar?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s one below your belly button that I don’t think is from bein’ stabbed. How’d you get it?”

His question has your eyes flying open, the sleepiness now replaced with panic as your mind races and heart pounds, knowing exactly what scar he’s talking about—it’s surgical, a cut made by a scalpel that’d been hurriedly stitched up after the doctor sterilized you.

It’s an easy enough answer to give him since he’s aware you can’t get pregnant. But it feels like a lie; it’s not the whole truth that you’ve buried so deep down inside your conscious because of the pain of remembering.

You’d been adamant about wanting to protect Joel from the anguish of discovering the extent of all he lost twenty years ago. You didn’t see the point in upsetting him and knew without a doubt he’d blame himself. Yet, there’s a part of you that feels he deserves to know, that he needs to know, and that this isn’t something you should have to carry by yourself. He’s the love of your life, the man you’re going to spend whatever days you have left on this earth with, and it feels wrong to keep a secret like this from him. If he found out later, he’d be even more devastated, and you don’t want to betray his trust like that—you don’t want to keep anything from him, like how you hope he doesn’t keep anything from you. You’re partners, you’ve always shared everything, and this is no different.

The resolve hits you that you’re going to tell him the truth, the whole truth.

“We don’t have to talk about it…” he says when you’re silent for too long. “It’s late anyway.” The last word turns into a yawn.

“No, I’ll tell you,” you reply. Moving, you get on top of him, your thighs bracketing his naked hips, leaning over to turn on the lamp. His eyes squint from the light, looking uneasy, your body pressing into his to hover your face over his, holding yourself up on your elbows beside his head, stroking your fingers through his damp grey hair. His arms automatically wrap around your back to rub his hands along your shirt-covered spine.

“I’m not gonna like what you’re about to tell me, am I?” he asks with a frown.

“No, Joel,” you answer softly. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch, so take a deep breath for me.”

The expression on his face turns serious, clenching his jaw, his hands stopping their movements.

His voice is low, “How’d you get the scar?”

“We’ll get to that in a second. First, I need you to understand that everything that happened to me is not your fault, okay?”

“Just fuckin’ tell me.”

“You tell me first that you understand what I just said.”

“Yes—not my fault,” he says impatiently. “Tell me.”

One of the things they teach you in medical school is how to give a person bad news. There are times when you have to tell someone they’re dying or have an incurable illness; a patient dies in surgery, and you’re having to inform the next of kin. It’s a step-by-step process, starting with finding out the person's understanding of the situation for a place to begin and build upon. Next is the warning shot, which you delivered by telling Joel that what you’re about to tell him is going to hurt. Then you present the news in plain words to avoid any misunderstandings. It’s common for there to be silence, so you wait for them to make the next move and validate any emotional responses. It’s a little fucked up that this is the process you’re going to use to tell him, but it’s the best way to ease him into it and not cause too much emotional distress all at once.

“Good,” you reply. “Remember in the truck when I told you I took measures to ensure I couldn’t have children?”

“Yes. The scar’s from that? Surgery?”

“Yes.”

“Okay… what aren’t you tellin’ me?”

Taking a deep breath, you answer, “The reason I had it done.”

His eyebrows crease together, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“But you said—”

That you had a fellow doctor help you out.

“Yes,” you cut him off, “except after the Outbreak, especially right at the beginning, doctors weren’t doing elective surgeries, and still aren’t with the lack of supplies. They only do sterilization at the time of childbirth or in conjunction with another abdominal surgery.”

“Please, for the love of God, say surgery,” he says desperately, and it makes your chest ache, hating that you’re putting him through this.

Cupping his cheeks, you give another warning shot, saying as gently as possible, “Joel, I’m sorry I have to tell you this, but I was pregnant.”

His eyes go wide. “When?” he breathes, but you can tell he already knows the answer.

“2003.”

He looks like he’s just been punched, his face pinching in pain, squeezing his eyes shut as he absorbs the blow and processes what you said.

There’s a roughness to his voice when he speaks again, hearing the hurt when he whispers, “The baby?”

“Didn’t survive the pregnancy.” Swallowing hard, your eyes are burning at remembering all that’d happened, knowing something was wrong, and discovering the worse when an ultrasound was done. “I, uh, lost her in December of that year. I was a little over five months along.”

The devastation is clear on his face when his gaze meets yours, seeing how hard he’s trying not to cry with the tears brimming his eyes and his bottom lip trembling.

His throat bobs, the word cracking when it leaves his mouth, “Her?”

“Yes.”

“Five months? Five? You were… you were…” He can’t even say the whole sentence. “Before? On my, my… On my birthday?” Tears start falling down his cheeks.

Your throat is so tight that it’s hard to speak, answering morosely, “Yes.” Wiping at the wetness on his face, continuing, “I found out a few days before.” The next part, you say so quietly, “I was going to surprise you—it was your gift.”

You can see his heart break, and it makes your own squeeze so tight it steals your breath. It was the right thing to tell him—he deserved to know, but it comes at such a great cost, feeling terrible that you’re causing him so much distress. A pained noise comes from him as he crushes you in a hug, pressing your face into his neck, his body shaking as he cries hard, giving in to your own sadness.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” you sob.

He’s in agony. It hurts. The pain is gut-wrenching, the sadness so deep inside of him he can feel it twisting him in knots, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. It’s like someone is trying to skin him from the inside out. What he’s feeling is unbearable, and he is unsure if he will survive.

Getting stabbed felt better than this. He’d rather get stabbed because that’s something that heals and scars over, but this? It’s a gaping wound that’s going to stick with him just like Sarah’s death had.

There was nothing he’d wanted more than to have a baby with you all those years ago, and now knowing how close he got to his dream—that he lost two daughters without even knowing, he’s at an utter loss, the anguish consuming him, and overflowing into the tears he can’t hold back, letting it all out as he holds you close, needing your comfort.

His body is trembling uncontrollably, wracking with sobs. “We lost our baby,” he chokes out. “Our baby girl—I lost my babies.”

It feels like his chest is caving in, his heart getting crushed under the weight of his sadness, and he’s thankful you’re here with him—you’re keeping him grounded, your presence stopping him from simply checking out, and he’s allowing himself to feel the emotions, and grieve, something he couldn’t do with Sarah.

He can’t even imagine what you went through alone—losing the baby, him, and Sarah. At least he still had Tommy, but you had no one, having to deal with it all by yourself. Joel feels like shit that he wasn’t there for you in your time of need, wondering if he had been, would the baby have survived? Did another of his kids die because he failed to protect them again? Maybe he wasn’t meant to be a father—he’s not supposed to outlive his children, and he has with two of them, fucking delivering the third to people who wanted to take her from him, too, and barely saving her. He’s a failure as a father, unable to keep his kids safe, and now he’s very aware of how much stronger you are than him. After all the loss you went through alone, and you kept going? He’s weak in comparison, a coward; he barely survived—a failure of a father, partner, and human.

Your words are muffled, your tears hot on his skin, “I’m sorry,” you cry. “I did everything I could to give her the best chance, and it wasn’t enough.”

It’s not right that you’re blaming yourself, and he’s so angry at himself that he’s stopped crying, needing to make you understand it wasn’t your fault—if anyone’s to blame, it’s him.

He pulls you up to look you in the eyes, seeing your face is wet, his large palms caressing your cheeks. “I know you did all you could.” He speaks the words clearly, making sure you can hear the truth. “It’s not your fault, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I… I,” he stutters, “failed you both.”

Your eyebrows dip down, going serious. “I told you everything that happened to me isn’t your fault, Joel. You can’t blame yourself for what happened to the baby, or Sarah, for that matter. I’m the one who fucked up and got a flat tire. I’m the one who became a doctor for the army and had to deal with the stress of treating people caught in the blasts when they tried to stop the spread of infection by bombing Alberquerque, which didn’t even work. The city was lost, the army cut their losses and sent us to Phoenix, we just…” You pause, sounding ashamed when you say, “We abandoned the survivors—left people in the medical camp who’d die without treatment, and as a doctor, I was horrified, but as an expectant mother? I was one of the first people on the truck because the baby was all I cared about.” Taking a deep breath, you continue, “I figured having the protection of the military and access to medical supplies was the best option I had to safely bring her into the world, even at the cost of my morals—she was all I had left of you, and I was willing to do anything to protect her, and in the end, she didn’t make it, and none of it was your fault.”

“There’s a chance she would’ve survived if I was with you.” Pain cuts through him like a hot knife, the regret stinging. “They both might’ve survived if I’d been with you.”

It’s weighing on him how things could’ve been different, feeling like it was all his fault for not finding you sooner. After Sarah’s death, he doesn’t remember much about the days or weeks that followed—he’d completely disconnected from everything and wasn’t himself, simply an emotionless shell of a person that did whatever he needed to keep Tommy safe, looking for you in every QZ, settlement, or army camp they entered. That night everything went down, they should’ve checked the route you took, they should’ve tried harder to find you. His mind is whirling with all of the different choices he could’ve made.

Your hand cups his cheek. “Hey,” you say softly. “Don’t think about the what ifs. I know it’s hard, but all it will do is drive you crazy. What happened, happened, and you don’t need to torture yourself over it by thinking of how you could’ve changed things. So, stop blaming yourself. I don’t blame you. I’ve never blamed you. It gave me the strength to keep searching for you, thinking that you and Sarah were out there looking for me, too. We can’t go back in time, so we focus on the present and the fact that after everything we’ve been through, we still managed to find each other again.”

Hearing that your grief spurred you on to keep looking for him makes guilt roil in his stomach over how weak he’d been and that, by his own hand, he’d almost made your search pointless.

There’s no sugarcoating it, and you should know after all you’ve revealed to him, so he just says it, “I tried to kill myself.”

It makes you flinch, shock coming over your face. “What?” you whisper. “Joel, when? Why?”

Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly, his eyes darting away because he feels so much shame.

“Second day,” he answers. Swallowing thickly, he continues, the emotion making his voice rough, “Sarah died in my arms, and after all the shit I saw, I thought you were gone, too, and that was why you never made it to my house. I lost you both and couldn’t see the point anymore.” He takes a second to figure out his next words. “I’m, uh, not as strong as you are. The two people I love most were taken from me, and I didn’t want to keep living. Simple as that. Wasn’t even scared,” he admits. “I was ready—more than ready.” He pauses, his jaw flexing as the memory of holding the gun and feeling so calm comes back to him. “When I…” He has to swallow again, a lump forming in his throat, it just as hard telling you as it was with Ellie. “When I went to pull the trigger, I flinched.” His gaze meets yours, seeing the sadness in your eyes. “I, uh, told Ellie this story the other day, and I said I don’t know why I flinched, but some part of me likes to think it was Sarah tellin’ me to keep goin’ and not give up.” A sad smile turns up on his lips. “You know how she was always bossin’ me around.”

You sniffle, sharing the same look as him, both thinking fond memories about his daughter. “Because you’re a fucking disaster, Joel,” you reply. “You need someone bossing you around.”

He’s not going to deny the truth. “That I do, and I’m so fuckin’ happy I did keep goin’ ‘cause I found you, and there’s Ellie.”

The only kid he has left.

If he was protective of her before, he doesn’t know what he is now, a little afraid he might become one of those annoying helicopter parents. He can’t risk anything happening to her. He needs to keep her safe, ignoring the sudden urge to jump out of bed to go over to Tommy’s to check up on her.

After the resort town, and what she’d gone through, he’d been so worried about her change in demeanor—how quiet she became, closed off, distracted, aloof. She wouldn’t talk about it, but from the look in her eyes and the blood that’d been on her clothes when he found her, she’d had to kill a person or people, and Joel felt like he’d let her down by not being able to keep her safe.

He hated when she had to shoot the guy in Kansas City to save him, and he hated even more that she had to kill when he wasn’t there to do it for her—she’s still just a kid, his kid, and he knew it’d be traumatic for her, even if she tried to put on a brave face, and sure enough, it’d fucked her up, Joel worried sick that he’d lost his upbeat, chatterbox, bad pun telling Ellie forever.

He’d done everything he could think of to cheer her up and get her out of her head as she’d always done to him, pretty sure he said more words to her on their trip to Salt Lake City than he’d said in the past twenty years combined.

Then she met you, and he knows it was you who brought her back to him—you’d literally taken him to her, helped save her life, and given her hope that everything she’d been through, the good and bad, all meant something, freeing her conscious of the guilt she’s held over those who’d died for her.

And since Joel and Ellie are cut from the same cloth and terrible with emotional shit, now that she’s better, they’re pretending like it hadn’t happened.

Thank Christ you were there to call him out on his lie about the Fireflies finding someone else and telling her the truth—she never would’ve forgiven him.

“I’m happy you kept going, too,” you say, “so you could be there for her. Ellie needs a parent, someone to love her unconditionally, and I know you love her like she’s your own kid.”

“I do.”

“Have you told her?”

He looks away. “...no. We’re, uh, not very good at that kinda thing.”

“I figured as much. You’ll have to tell her one day. I think it’d make her happy.”

“Maybe…” He looks at you again, frowning. “That little girl has been alone her whole life. No parents—abandoned with FEDRA when she was born. I reckon she’s never been loved or cared about, and she isn’t quite sure what to do now that she’s got a… a…”

What is he to her?

“Dad,” you finish for him. “You’re her father, and she’s your daughter. You’re still a dad, Joel. You’ve got another teenager to raise or at least guide. She’s no longer alone and now has people to love and care about her, all thanks to you.” You poke his nose.

“She’d hate me sayin’ I’m her dad…”

“Because it’s so foreign to her. She doesn’t know what it’s like to have one, and I think she’ll warm up to the idea after some time.”

He couldn’t help feeling hopeful. “It’d be nice,” he replies. “Easier way to explain our relationship, and I do know she loves me.”

She’d never had to say it. Her actions and how she said she’d follow him anywhere were enough for him to know. That’s how their relationship has always been—doing their damnedest to talk around their feelings because they’re both just so fucking awkward. He told Ellie it wasn’t time that healed him, and she’d understood what he meant: I love you, and you’re the reason I’m better. When she responded that she was glad the attempt on his life didn’t work out, he heard: I love you, too.

They get each other.

“Good,” you say. “I know she loves you, too.”

It’s an understatement to say life has been unkind to him. Frankly, it feels like all he’s gone through was some kind of sadistic test of his resolve to live, it getting harder and harder with every passing year.

Joel thinks he’s finally catching a break or at least hopes.

He’s got you, Ellie, and Tommy all together someplace safe.

It still hurts like hell everything he lost to get here, unable to stop himself from imagining what it’d be like if his other two daughters had survived—all of you settling in Jackson, him and you taking care of Ellie, Sarah in her thirties with her own home and a family, and then there’s the girl who would’ve recently turned twenty that looks like a mix of you both; he pictures a face with your gorgeous eyes, his mouth, your chin, and he’d feel awful that she got his nose, but she’s beautiful just like her mom.

What would she have been like? Would she have looked how he’s imagining? The thoughts have his chest squeezing so tight, feeling like he’s lost another piece of his heart after he just put it back together again.

His eyes are watery, his voice wobbly when he asks, “Did she have a name?”

Your face goes soft, sadness gleaming in your eyes, your fingers sliding through the hair above his ear. “Yes,” you answer.

“I’d like to know it,” he says softly.

“When I first found out, she was Jellybean.” There’s a fond expression on your face. “Then, after everything, I started calling her Hope? Didn’t even know if she was a girl, but to steal from Star Wars, she was my only hope and kept me going, so that’s what I referred to her as. If she’d ended up being a boy, I would’ve named her Joel.” That makes his breath catch in his throat. “Then I found out the gender, and Hope just stuck.”

“Hope was perfect.”

“Hope Miller.”

Tears are rolling down his cheeks. “Hope Miller,” he says, the name ending on a sob, Joel crying once more.

He hugs you close to him, breathing in your hair while he breaks down, your body shaking as you let go, too, needing each other at this moment, mourning together, sharing in the sadness.

It could’ve been minutes or hours later that there were no more tears to shed, both of you overly exhausted, feeling like your bodies had been wrung out of everything inside of them.

You lean over him to turn off the lamp on the bedside table, and with a hand on the back of your head, he brings you down for a tender kiss.

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” he murmurs into your lips.

“Thank you for telling me,” you reply.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, no matter what.”

“No matter what,” he agrees.

It’s comforting when you end up half on top of him, your leg thrown over his waist, your head on his chest, your arm across his belly. He holds you, everything that happened tonight, making him fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He turned onto his left side as he slept, and It’s the bed jostling, you sitting up quickly beside him, that has him waking abruptly, adrenaline pumping in his veins over not hearing the intruder enter the room. You’re in danger, his heart pounding, breathing hard, and he’s out of the bed immediately, needing to neutralize the threat, not seeing any weapons, his hand grabbing the unarmed man by the throat.

He’s being shouted at by you, it finally registering in his brain, “Joel, it’s Tommy!”

His brother’s eyes are wide, his hands clawing at Joel’s arm, using what little air he has to repeat, “It’s me, it’s me…”

It breaks him from the spell, letting go of the other man, who starts coughing.

“Jesus Christ, Tommy,” Joel growls. “I coulda fuckin’ killed you!”

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes. “I knocked, and nobody answered.”

“So, you broke in while we were sleepin’? You got a fuckin’ death wish?”

Tommy catches his breath. “I wasn’t thinkin’.” He looks sheepish. “Doc’s here, and I thought it’d be funny, like back in the day when I’d barge into your room when she was at the house.”

Joel’s hand is on his naked hip, the other pressing to his face.

One of Tommy’s favorite past times, back in Austin, was showing up at his house on Saturday mornings when he knew you’d be staying over and annoying the fuck out of you both until you got out of bed to go have breakfast at the diner with Sarah—after the first time, you started sleeping in a shirt much to Joel’s chagrin.

“You’re fuckin’ stupid, Tommy,” Joel sighs. “You can’t be doin’ that anymore. There’s a real chance I’d end up murderin’ ya, and I don’t need Maria hatin’ me more than she already does.”

“Maria doesn’t hate you.”

He moves his hand from his face to narrow his eyes at his brother. “Maria hates my fuckin’ guts,” he replies.

“Wait,” you say, Joel stepping to turn his body toward you, confusion on your face. “Why does Tommy’s wife hate you?”

There’s a thrill running through him because he knows that as soon as you find out, you’re gonna rip into his brother. He looks at the younger man, nodding his head toward you, “Tell her why Maria hates me.”

Tommy looks uneasy. “Well, like I said, she doesn’t hate you. She’s just gotta warm up to you, is all,” his brother says.

“Uh-huh.” Joel doesn’t sound convinced. “Stop beatin’ around the bush, and tell her.”

“I told her the truth of all we did in order to survive,” Tommy says quickly. “How we fuckin’ murdered innocent people and all that fucked up shit. I didn’t leave out anythin’ ‘cause she’s my wife, and I tell her everythin’.”

“Tommy,” your voice has gone low and serious, and Joel can’t help his smirk. “Did you blame everything you did on Joel and make him sound like a fucking monster?”

Tommy looks mad. “You don’t know what we did—all the people we killed. We could’ve done things differently. It was Joel’s fault.”

“For keeping you alive, Tommy?” she asks, Joel glancing her way to see her looking just as angry. “His daughter died in his arms. His daughter. He lost me that night, too, thinking I was dead, and you’re fucking blaming him for doing fucked up shit to keep the only person he had left alive? Are you fucking kidding me, Tommy? If anyone has survived to today, they’ve had to do horrible shit to get here—I’ve done horrible shit that I’m not proud of, but I’m still breathing, and that’s all that fucking matters.”

“There were other ways we could’ve survived,” Tommy says. “Maria—”

“Maria,” you interrupt, “wasn’t in the same situation as you and Joel. You make her sound like a goddamn saint, but I have no doubts she’s had to do fucked up shit, too. Get off your fucking high horse, Thomas. You were the last person Joel had, and after the shit that happened to him, you’re gonna bet your ass that he would do anything, no matter how shitty, to keep you alive. Frankly, you should be thanking him that you survived long enough to make it here.”

The other man breathes in deeply before replying, “Look, it’s in the past, and I get it now that he was just desperate to keep me livin’. I still feel pretty fuckin’ guilty about the shit that went down, but I understand why he did it. I’ll, uh, talk to Maria.”

“Yeah,” you say. “You better.”

“I will.” He nods.

“Did ya come over just to annoy us?” Joel asks his brother.

“No,” Tommy replies. “Brought y’all breakfast, like I said I would. It’s in the kitchen, and I’m also here to find out what the fuck happened ‘cause Ellie is a goddamn liar.”

Joel’s stomach twists. “What’d she say?”

“I know I said I tell everythin’ to Maria, but I kept my word to you and didn’t mention Ellie’s… condition. She thought you were takin’ the girl to find her family.”

“Thank you.”

“Ellie said y’all found the campus in Colorado abandoned and that you ended up in Utah at a hospital the Fireflies were usin’, and that’s where you found Doc. She said the place got hit by raiders, and you had to fight your way out.”

“I did find Doc at the hospital in Salt Lake City, and Colorado was abandoned,” he says. Scratching at the back of his neck, he looks away. “We got to Utah, found the Fireflies, but they’d wanted to kill Ellie in order to try and make a cure…”

“What the fuck did you do, Joel?” his brother asks through his teeth.

“Joel and I killed them all,” you answer for him, Tommy’s attention moving to you. “I was a doctor there and have been researching a cure for the last five years. Ellie was our key, but Marlene and the head of the facility wanted to murder her instead of doing a procedure that she would’ve survived. It was fucked up, so I helped Joel save the girl, and we took out the Fireflies in the process.” You shrug.

“You saved her instead of everyone else on the entire fuckin’ planet?” Tommy sounds like he can’t believe what he’s saying.

“I couldn’t let her die,” Joel replies, his eyes meeting his brother’s. “Not after Sarah—she’s my kid, Tommy.”

His brother sighs. “Yeah,” he replies. “I get why you’d do it. It’s just fucked that there coulda been a cure, and now what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Well,” you start. “If I can get my hands on the right equipment, I can do the biopsy and work on developing it myself, but I’d basically need a lab.”

“You could do it?” Surprise is in Tommy’s tone.

“Yeah? The assumption is that Ellie has had Cordyceps growing inside her since she was born—my theory is that her mom was bit while pregnant and somehow gave birth before turning.” That has Joel’s stomach falling through the floor at the thought of Ellie’s mother making sure her baby survived even after being handed a death sentence, not knowing if the child was infected, too. He understands, though, if he’d been in her shoes, he would’ve done the same thing to ensure his kid was safe—hell, he murdered an entire hospital, risking the lives of millions for Ellie, and he thinks her mother would’ve approved. “Anyways,” you continue, “what we think happens is when Ellie gets bit, the normal Cordyceps think she’s Cordyceps or that she’s already turned, making her immune. If I biopsy some of her mutated Cordyceps, I can multiply the cells to make a vaccine to give people that will cause the same immunity, or at least that’s what I’m hoping. There’s no guarantee it will work.”

“Fuckin’ A, Doc!” Tommy’s grinning. “I always said you were too fuckin’ smart to be with this fucker.” He points his thumb at Joel. “We got a clinic, nothin’ fancy, but I’m thinkin’ I could probably convince Maria that we need more medical shit. The town’s gettin’ bigger, anyway. It’d make sense. We can send raiding parties to nearby towns and cities to gather whatever they can find—you give me a list, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I can do that,” you reply. “Does Jackson have a doctor?”

“Yeah, Dr. Jones is an old, ornery motherfucker. We could use some new blood if you’re up for it.”

You smile. “I’d love to.”

“Great! The other reason I’m here—” he focuses back on Joel “—is findin’ out when you wanted to get hitched.”

Joel looks at you. “You got a preference, baby?”

“The sooner, the better?” You shrug.

He smiles, thinking the same thing as he nods his head, facing Tommy again. “You heard the lady. The sooner, the better.”

His brother’s smiling big, looking delighted. “In that case, be at the House of Worship in two hours.” He holds up two fingers.

“Will do. How’d Ellie sleep?” Joel asks. “You fed her, right? Let her take a shower?”

The younger man’s eyebrows are up to his hairline. “Jesus, you really care about this kid.”

“Congratulations, Tommy,” you say with a smile. “You’re an uncle again.”

“I guess I am—missed it.” He’s smiling softly. “She had no complaints when she woke this mornin’, and, of course, I fuckin’ fed her. Couldn’t believe how much food she scarfed down. I should be askin’ if you’ve been feedin’ her,” Tommy tells Joel as he pokes him in his bare chest. “She showered first thing at the house, and Maria got her more clothes.”

“Thank you for takin’ care of her. You didn’t have to,” Joel replies.

Tommy smirks, saying, “Based on all those fuckin’ hickies coverin’ your naked ass—” He points at Joel’s torso “—it’s safe to say it was better she stayed at mine last night.”

Joel’s cheeks heat, having not realized that he is, in fact, completely nude. Walking over to the bed, he groans as he sits down on the edge, pulling a blanket over his thighs to cover himself up, his back twinging in pain.

He sighs. “Yeah, yeah,” Joel says. “Thanks again for watchin’ her. Can you make sure she’s at the weddin’? You, too.”

“We’d really like you both there,” you add. “It’s important to us.”

“What about Maria?” Tommy asks, looking unsure.

“Like you said last time I was here,” Joel starts. “She’s family and allowin’ us to stay here, so she can come.”

You speak behind him, “But, if she isn’t civil and ruins my wedding, I get to kick her ass.”

Joel snorts, and Tommy puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Woah, Doc,” his brother says. “Maria isn’t gonna start shit—she’s seven months pregnant, for Christ’s sake, she’s got enough on her plate.”

The blood leaves Joel’s face, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut with all the air leaving his lungs.

He’d forgotten about his brother having a baby, or maybe he’d pushed the thought away because he didn’t like to think about it. It wasn’t his proudest moment how he acted when Tommy first told him the news. He’d been jealous and resented his brother for living his dream of being married with a kid on the way. Tommy was getting to live this happy, idyllic life, and Joel, at the time, was struggling with his fears of failing Ellie and getting her killed. It’d been too much to hear his brother had a kid on the way, making Joel dwell on the fact that Tommy had been right, his life had stopped all those years ago, and he couldn’t stand how his brother and everyone else in this town were living like the world hadn’t ended.

It didn’t feel fair to him, not with all he’d been through.

Of course, he wants to be happy for Tommy. He really does. He wants to be able to share in his joy, but it hurts so fucking bad being reminded of how close he’d gotten to having what his brother has now.

He lets air fill his lungs and slowly lets it out.

At least he’s got you back. And Ellie.

He’d started living again the moment Ellie had forgiven him, shoving her bag into his arms the last time they were in Jackson and telling him, ‘Let’s go.’ They went, and the journey wasn’t easy, both coming far too close to death to be comfortable. He found you, or you found him as it were, and now he’s getting his chance to live a happy, idyllic life married to you, and together, you’ll care for Ellie.

That sounds pretty fucking perfect to him.

A wife and a kid. Wouldn't have even crossed his mind a year ago—a fever dream.

“Someone married you,” you say in disbelief, taking Joel from his thoughts, “and is having your baby? I know the apocalypse happened, but did hell freeze over, too?”

“I forgot how fuckin’ mean you are, Doc,” Tommy chuckles.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Joel whispers, receiving a playful swat to his shoulder from you.

“I’m not mean,” you grumble.

He has to hold in his groan as he twists his body to pat your thigh. “No, you’re not,” he tells you. “You’re perfect.”

“Stop lyin’ to her,” Tommy says. “And I’ll have you know that I’ve matured, Doc, now that I’m older.”

Joel turns back, squinting his eyes at the other man. “You almost got yourself killed by bein’ dumb…” Joel replies.

“It was for old time’s sake.”

“Well, congrats, Tommy,” you tell him. “You were always so good with Sarah. I know you’ll be a great dad.”

Tommy smiles. “Thanks, Doc. I’m nervous but excited. Put together the nursery myself.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair and see y’all in a bit. Joel?”

Their eyes meet. “Yeah?”

“For all that’s holy, put on some fuckin’ clothes. We don’t need you bein’ our first prisoner in the town jail for public indecency.”

Joel glares at his brother. “You’re right,” Joel replies. “It’s time for you to get the fuck out. We’ll see you at the church.

Tommy laughs as he leaves, hearing his footsteps thudding down the stairs and the slam of the front door.

He presses his hands to his face, “Fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles into them.

There’s movement as you crawl up behind him, wrapping your arms around his front and resting your chin on his shoulder.

“You okay, babe?”

His arms go over yours to keep you in place, turning his head to look at you. “Yeah,” he answers. “I’m fine. Had a rude awakenin’, is all.”

“Do you wanna talk about becoming an uncle?”

He lets out a long sigh. “There’s nothin’ to talk about—I’m happy for Tommy.”

“Joel, you don’t have to lie to me. It would be reasonable if you were feeling hurt that your brother is living such a great life and having a baby. I’m…” you pause, chewing on your lip. Your voice is small when you keep speaking, “I’m sorry I can’t give you children, and I’d understand if you wanted to find someone else you could have a family with.”

Hissing in pain, he’s standing quickly and turning around to face you, getting back onto the bed on his knees, not understanding why you’d even say such a thing—not after everything you’ve both been through to find each other again.

Is this you getting cold feet? Do you not want to marry him? Did he rush things?

His hands cup your face, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes.

“What?” he asks. “Are you second guessin’ marryin’ me? Was it ‘cause of how I woke up?”

He’s scared.

“What?” You look confused, your hands rubbing up his bare chest. “I want to marry you. Your reaction this morning was warranted.” Letting out a slow sigh, you continue, “Just, I know how much you’d wanted kids, how we wanted kids, and I wouldn’t blame you, now that you’re in a place like this, if you wanted to settle down and start a family.”

His face pinches in confusion, saying slowly, “Baby, we have a family… You, me, Ellie, we’re a family, and you’re all I need. You’re the only woman I want to be with.” He swallows hard. “I can’t stomach bringin’ any more children into this world—I’ve lost too many.” He inhales deeply, letting it out slowly. “I… uh, struggle with my need to keep Ellie safe. It’s always on my mind, and it scares me that I’ll end up gettin’ her killed like… like…”

“Sarah?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Like Sarah. I know Ellie isn’t her. I’m very aware. They’re so… different.”

You smile softly. “But they would’ve loved each other.”

He smiles, “Yeah. I reckon they would. Sarah would’ve found Ellie funny.”

“Oh, yeah.” You grin. “Would’ve loved Ellie’s terrible puns.”

He’s fondly thinking about it as he says, “She had a book full of ‘em. They were fuckin’ awful—if you think my jokes are bad, these were worse.”

Laughing, you reply, “I love your dad jokes. They would’ve enjoyed music together, too.”

“That they would. Both would’ve given me shit if I played guitar for them.”

“Affectionately, because they can’t reveal how much they actually love it to avoid seeming uncool. I miss your singing. Remember the first time you played for me?”

“Sarah’s thirteenth birthday party.” He nods. “We were hidin’ away in my bedroom while the livin’ room was overrun with teen girls, and I was tryin’ my damndest to woo you by playin’ some Ben E. King.”

“Oh, you wooed me.” You smirk. “Stand by Me was always my favorite.”

“I know.” He smiles. “I’ll have to see about findin’ a guitar.” He’s gotta play for Ellie and you. “What we were discussion’,” he says. “Ellie’s different, and I know it. She can shoot a gun and protect herself—has protected herself when I wasn’t there.” He frowns. ”I worry about her constantly. Somethin’ inside me needs to know she’s okay. If I’m like this with a girl capable of killin’, how would I be with a baby? It honest to god frightens me, and I’m sure I’d end up worryin’ myself to death.”

Your arms loop around his neck, a tender expression on your face. “As a doctor, I can tell you it makes sense that you’re overprotective of your living child. Hopefully, being here in Jackson and not constantly on guard will ease some of the worries. Just know I’m here if you ever wanna talk.”

“Thank you, baby,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you. When he pulls back, he looks you in the eyes. “I’m happy with all we have,” he says truthfully, “and there’s nothin’ for you to be sorry about—Ellie is more than plenty.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” There’s something he can tell you to ease your mind, and it makes him smile crookedly. “As a matter of fact, me bein’ able to fuck you full of my come with no risk of knockin’ you up really riles me up—gets me harder than a fuckin’ rock. I’m happy as a fuckin’ clam, baby.”

Your eyes go a little wide. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “You’ve got whatever the opposite of a breeding kink is.” You looked away, eyebrows creasing as you thought aloud, “Would it just be a creampie kink? No, ‘cause it turns you on that, there’s no risk of pregnancy. Wait, a birth control kink. You’ve got a birth control kink.” Your gazes meet, a grin on your face looking beyond delighted, as you playfully slap his chest. “I thought I knew all your kinks and fetishes, and look at you keeping me on my toes.” Leaning forward, you kiss him, Joel moaning when you shove your tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own, his hands holding your face, meeting your energy until you both need to breathe and separate. “I feel better knowing you’re happy with what we have because I’m happy, too,” you pant.

“Good,” he replies, smiling. Joel kisses you quickly. “We better get ready,” he says when he pulls back, a grin on his lips. “We got a date with an officiant.”

You’re smiling just as brightly, and it has butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He almost can’t believe this is happening, that you’re here, and in—he looks over at the clock on the bedside table—an hour and a half, you’ll be his wife, something you should’ve been twenty years ago. He’s missed too much time with you and won’t waste any more.

“It’s about damn time,” you reply.

“Don’t I know it.”

It’s obvious you’re both excited with how quickly you’re getting off the bed. Turns are taken in the bathroom, then it’s going through the bag of clothes Tommy had brought over. Neither of you expected to look like a traditional bride and groom; wedding dress stores no longer existed, and there definitely weren’t places to buy a suit. He asked your opinion on what he should wear, settling on a black and charcoal-colored plaid shirt with some dark wash jeans that were a tad tighter than he was used to. You did the same, showing him potential outfits and trying things on before you went with a cream-colored cable knit sweater over a white tank top and some light blue jeans that hugged your hips perfectly, but were too long in the legs, having to bunch them over the top of your boots.

Once dressed, you’d made your way down to the kitchen to eat the breakfast Tommy had left. Sitting at the kitchen table, you’re across from each other, barely coming up for air as the two of you eat your plates of eggs and bacon, the best fucking thing Joel has eaten since the last time he was in Jackson. You’re setting your water down after taking a gulp, a thoughtful expression on your face.

“You know what would’ve made today perfect?” you ask him.

“Hmm?” Joel hums around a bite, his eyes on yours.

“If Sarah were here.”

The sadness hits him like a truck, taking him off balance with how it slams into him.

He swallows his food, setting down his fork, frowning as he looks at you. “I wish she were here, too,” he says sadly.

A small smile appears on your lips. “I’d been so nervous the first time I met her because I didn’t want her to hate me.”

“There’s no way in hell she would’ve hated you.”

“Kids are really protective of their parents, and you’re the only one she had since birth,” you point out. “Then, for the first time in her life, you started dating. The cards were stacked against me—there were a ton of reasons for her to hate me.”

“She, uh—” he scratched at the back of his neck “—was always tellin’ me I needed to find someone, and then I met you and told her about meetin’ you. When our first date went so well, she was beggin’ me to meet you. I’d tell her about you, and she approved. You had nothin’ to worry about.”

“That makes me happy. You know, almost a year in, she said she hoped you’d marry me.”

He smiles. “Oh, she was tryin’ real hard to get me to pop the question—kept suggestin’ romantic places, she even said I should take you to Paris,” he chuckles, “and I’d have to remind her that I was waitin’ for the first year of your residency to end so you wouldn’t be stressed about a weddin’. Then there was the hiccup with you gettin’ fired—”

“Forcibly relocated,” you interrupt.

“Right.” He smiles. “There was the hiccup of you bein’ forcibly relocated and out of work for those few months, just didn’t seem right at the time, which was dumb, I know. So, by the time you’d started makin’ up your time at the clinic, I was done waitin’. I asked Sarah’s permission a week before my birthday, and she’d wanted to help me pick out a ring.” He frowns. “I’d been busy with that job, and well...” He sighs, rubbing a hand through his hair, leaving it unsaid because you two were very aware of what happened. “What I’m tryin’ to say is—” your eyes were on his “—Sarah loved you from the very beginnin’, and she would be so fuckin’ happy that we’re finally gettin’ married.”

You sniffle, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “I miss her so fucking much, Joel.”

His throat was closing up, having to clear it before he could speak. “I miss her, too, baby—every fuckin’ day.” He has to wipe at his eyes, something coming to him suddenly. “Last time I was here in Jackson, Tommy tried givin’ me a picture of her and me—one of the Polaroids that’d been on the fridge.” Sarah had been obsessed with the Polaroid camera you got her for her thirteenth birthday, the refrigerator littered with pictures of her with Joel, you, and Tommy, some a combination of the four of you. “I didn’t take it, couldn’t, not when I was thinkin’ if Ellie stayed with me, she’d end up like her. I didn’t want the reminder.”

There’s sadness on your face. “Oh, babe,” you say, “we’ll have to get it from him. Maybe put together a little memorial for her somewhere in the house.”

“I’d like that.” He nodded. “We could do somthin’ for Hope, too.”

“I’d like that,” you reply softly.

He nods. “We better finish eatin’” He points at your plate. “They’ll be expectin’ us.”

You smile. “Yes, they will.”

It’s a beautiful spring day, the sun shining high above in the clear sky.

It caught him off guard when you took his hand as you exited the house. Normally he wouldn’t want to be without his dominant hand in case he needed to use a weapon, but then your fingers intertwined with his, reminding him of times spent walking around the mall or the park, and the little smile on his face said that he didn’t mind, he actually quite liked it. Hand in hand, the stroll to the House of Worship has you taking in more of the town. It throws him a bit how people smile as they pass or offer quick greetings, it feeling foreign when Joel tries to politely smile back.

“I can’t believe it’s an actual functioning town,” you marvel beside him. “Electricity, water, sewer. I wonder how they found people to get things working again. They’d need engineers, electricians, and plumbers, too. Add in the fact they’re producing enough food to feed hundreds of people, and that’d require people with ample husbandry knowledge. They really got lucky.”

“Probably found people with backgrounds,” he replies. “I did construction, but I know my way around some electrical and plumbin’. Don’t know if I could get a dam workin’—if I had a manual, I’m sure I could figure it out.” He shrugs.

You glance at him. “It’s true you can learn a lot just from reading—don’t need fancy degrees anymore.”

“I reckon you’re a much better doctor than anyone who learned after the outbreak. Your fancy degree still means somthin’.”

“I guess.”

“I know it does, baby,” he says, leaning over to kiss the top of your head.

The House of Worship is an old church along the main street, the wooden siding of the building painted a deep red, with the entrance coated in white. It’s traditional looking, with the tall steeple containing a bell and its gabled roof that made the front look like an ‘A.’ The inside had the vaulted ceilings that you’d expect and rows of pews that led to the front where a plain podium stood, no holy symbols anywhere since it was multifaith. The place was empty, the tall windows along the walls letting in light from outside and illuminating everything.

“Five bucks says Tommy’s late,” your voice echoes in the large room, turning your head to look at Joel, his hand still engulfing your own.

“That’s easy money, baby.” He meets your eyes, looking amused.

“Wanna walk me down the aisle?” you ask.

Letting go of your hand, he straightens his back, it aching a little as he offers you his arm with a grin, answering, “Gladly.”

You hook your arm through his. “Ready?” you ask.

“Born ready,” he responds.

It doesn’t feel right that there’s no music, imagining that if this was before the outbreak, you probably would’ve walked down the aisle to the “Bridal Chorus.” Now, though, you’re thinking it needs to be something different, wracking your brain for the perfect song when it hits you, your lips turning up when you both face forward.

As you slowly start walking, you start humming loud enough for Joel to hear. He’s silent for a second, and you know with how much he loves music, he’ll recognize it.

“Etta James?” he asks, glancing at you with a curious expression.

“It felt fitting,” you reply, not feeling any embarrassment when you do your best impression of the singer, singing the opening line of “At Last.”

He huffs out an amused breath.

There’s a reason you studied sciences instead of the arts, and it’s because you’re not very talented in any of them; your singing voice is pretty lousy. Warmth spreads through your body when Joel jumps in on the second verse, sounding a bit rusty as he softly sings with you, making your way down the aisle.

The song isn’t finished when you get to the front of the church, both of you stopping on the same line. There’s a pause where you’re standing in silence, a circular window high above behind the podium showing the blue sky.

There are nerves swirling in your belly, even though you know you have nothing to worry about. Marrying Joel felt so right and was always what you’d wanted, now getting to make your dream come true. You’ve been alone for so long and lost so much in the past that you’re nervous about having people in your life to love and care about again, knowing they could be taken from you in the blink of an eye. You’re not sure how you’d survive if you lost Joel again; hell, it’d fuck you up if something happened to Ellie or even Tommy. These are your people, they’re all you have left, and you can’t worry about the morbid possibilities. You just need to focus on the right now and enjoy what you have, living every day to the fullest.

There’s something else you know without a doubt that Joel is feeling, too, and it’s the sadness weighing on your chest that Sarah is missing today.

Joel clears his throat beside you, his voice rough with emotion when he says, “You know, she’s here with us.”

“I know,” you reply truthfully.

Unhooking his arm from yours, he undoes the button on his left cuff, carefully rolling up the sleeve to his forearm, doing the same with his right. He turns to face you, and you do the same to look him in the eyes, seeing that sadness in the dark depths.

Gently, he grabs your left hand, bringing it up to softly kiss each knuckle, lowering it after a moment, his thumb rubbing over what he kissed. “It’s silly,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “She, uh, fixed this watch and gave it to me as a gift?” He holds up his left arm to show you his favorite watch that had broken, the glass now splintered. “It broke again when she died. The time it stopped on, well…” Your heart squeezes, feeling your eyes burn. “It’s,” the word cracks. He takes a deep breath, trying again, “It’s all I’ve had left of her. I keep it to keep her with me. She’s here.”

You cradle his cheek with your right hand, replying, “She is.” You nod. “She’ll always be with us, Joel.”

The door at the back of the church opens, both of you tensing, and looking toward it, the emotions dispersing as you go on high alert.

“It’s so much bigger than it looks outside,” Ellie’s voice echoes while walking quickly down the center aisle, looking around at everything, a visibly pregnant woman waddling slowly behind her. Ellie’s nose crinkles. “Smells fucking weird.”

“It’s an old buildin’,” the woman replies. “Old buildin’s smell.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Ellie’s finally made it to you, her attention on Joel as you both turn toward her. “Well, you’re not in a wheelchair, so your hips—”

“Are fuckin’ fine,” he grumbles.

The amusement is clear on the young girl’s face.

“Thank god for that,” she says. “Imagine traveling across the fucking country and almost dying multiple times, only to get to your destination where you cripple yourself from not being able to keep it in your pants. That’d be so fucking embarrassing,” she laughs.

“Well, that didn’t happen, so there’s nothin’ for me to be embarrassed about,” he retorts.

“Oh, there’s plenty for your old ass to be embarrassed about, Joel,” she replies. “You couldn’t even make it to the top floor of that building in KC. There was that time you couldn’t find the shit you stashed or, oh my god, how fucking smelly you get—which good on you, cleaning up for Doc.”

He lets out a long sigh, his hands on his hips. “You done?” he asks.

“I’m sure I’ll think of other shit, but for now? Yeah.” She nods.

“Thank you for bein’ here,” he tells her.

“Like I’d fucking miss you assholes getting your happily ever after, or whatever. Plus, I’ve never been to a wedding. Read about them, though. Wanna see what the fuss is all about, you know?”

“This should be pretty straightforward,” you respond, Joel and Ellie looking at you. “Just someone leading the ceremony and us saying vows to each other. Back in ye olden times, some people had crazy long ceremonies with a lot of speeches, but that’s not really us. We’re doing this more traditionally.”

“Yeah,” Joel agrees. “We’re not needin’ no sermons or someone waxin’ poetic about the sanctity of marriage.”

“Weddings sound exhausting,” Ellie replies.

“Oh, they could be,” you say. “Super boring, too.”

The woman spoke up, standing beside Ellie, “Tommy and I just did a small ceremony, like what y’all are doin’ with some close friends, and we exchanged our rings.”

“You must be Maria,” you say, sticking out your hand and introducing yourself, wanting to be cordial. “Most people call me Doc, and it’s kinda stuck.” You shrug as she shakes your hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replies, letting go of your hand.

“Are you guys gonna get rings?” Ellie asks, pointing between you and Joel.

“Rings are hard to find…” you answer.

“Not when you live here,” Maria responds, smiling. “We’ve got a smith in town who can make you some—she does it for all newlyweds as a gift.”

Your eyes widen.

“Oh, I’d love a ring,” you say. Looking at Joel, you ask, “Joel?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I’d like one, too. Thank you, ma’am.”

“You can call me Maria, Joel, and there’s no need to thank me,” she says. “It’s Valerie who makes ‘em, and I’ll let her know you’ll be stoppin’ by to get sized.”

“Well, thank you for doin’ that,” he responds.

“You’re welcome, Joel.” She nods.

You can tell Maria doesn’t particularly love Joel, but there’s nothing about how she’s looking at him, speaking to him, or her body language that says she hates him. If anything, it’s more indifference, her coming to terms with him being her brother-in-law and now a part of her life, so she has to make some kind of effort for things not to be awkward. Joel’s doing the same thing. It's almost like they’ve silently agreed that this is how things will be—civil and nothing more.

“Thank you for giving us a place to stay, Maria,” you tell her. “The house is lovely, and Jackson is so wonderful.”

“Y’all are more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like,” she says. “Joel’s family, and you’re about to be family, too. I know Tommy’s excited to have all of you here.”

“Speakin’ of my brother,” Joel cuts in. “Where is he…? And whoever's officiating, for that matter.”

As if on cue, the door to the church opens, and Tommy comes striding in. He’s in jeans, a light blue button-up tucked into them, with the ugliest brown and mustard yellow striped tie around his neck, and a navy blue suit jacket about a size too big for him—he even slicked back his hair. “Sorry, I’m late,” he announces. “Had the worst fuckin’ time findin’ a goddamn tie.”

“Going without one would look better than whatever that abomination is,” you reply, pointing.

He frowns. “This is a tie-wearin’ occasion, so I’m wearin’ one.”

“You didn’t wear a tie when we got married…” Maria says slowly.

“‘Cause I love ya and wouldn’t want you havin’ to look at this eyesore.” He replies, holding up the tie.

“So, you don’t love us?” you ask him. “What are we, chopped liver?”

“Liver and onions ain’t too bad,” he answers. “And, of course, I fuckin’ love y’all, too.”

He makes it to your group, going over to Maria, his hand on her swollen stomach as he kisses her sweetly. “Hey, honey.” He smiles at her, and she grins back. He looks toward you and Joel. “I’ll take it introductions were made? Doc, you met my wife—” He’s rubbing her belly. “—and mother of my kid?”

“Yep,” you answer. “We met.”

“Good. Well, everybody’s here, so we can start.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Joel asks. “Where’s the minister or whoever the fuck you got to do the ceremony?” His arms cross over his chest.

A shit-eating grin appears on Tommy’s face, the one that means he’s up to no good and is about to say something that is going to aggravate Joel. “You’re lookin’ at him.”

Joel’s eyes squint. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” he grits out. “You’re not marryin’ us—the towns gotta have someone ordained or somethin’.”

“It just so happens Jackson does: Me.”

“This ain’t funny, Tommy.”

“Remember when you told me you were gonna marry her?” Tommy nods his head toward you.

“Yeah..?”

“Well, I went ahead and got myself ordained to do your weddin’—ain’t no skin off my back. I did it on the computer.” He looks proud of himself.

“What?” Joel sounds like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Why on God’s green earth would you think we’d have you do our weddin’? We probably would’ve had the minister at the church ma, and pop went to do it.”

“That man was older than sin and long dead now.”

“You’re not marryin’ us.”

Tommy matched Joel’s pose, crossing his arms over his own chest and staring his brother down.

“Then I guess you’re not gettin’ married.”

Joel scoffed. “We’re gettin’ married. We can do it ourselves.”

“Joel?” you said, putting your hand on his arm.

He met your eyes, the angry look on his face immediately disappearing. “Yeah, baby?”

“I don’t have a problem with Tommy marrying us. I think it’s sweet he got ordained.” You pointedly look at Tommy, saying in a tone that brokers no argument. “And I know Tommy would be very serious about the whole thing because he knows how important this is to us.”

Tommy’s hands go up in defense. “Hey, now, I’m not takin’ this job lightly,” he says.

Looking back at Joel, you say, “See, he means well, and I kinda like the idea of him doing it. We’ve got our whole family here—him, Ellie, Maria. Why not let him be involved?” You shrug.

He’s frowning, sighing out, “Fine.” He glares at his brother. “Don’t say anythin’ stupid—this is a big day for us. Keep it simple.”

“I can do that.”

“Okay.” Joel nods. His face softens when he looks over at Ellie. “Would you, uh, care to be my best man or woman, as it were?”

Surprise is on her face. “You want me to be your best man?” She points at herself.

“Well, yeah?” He sounds unsure as he keeps talking, eyes darting away, “Or, if you’d rather be the maid of honor, I’m sure Doc would be happy to have ya by her side.”

Ellie makes a face, meeting your eyes. “No offense, Doc, but I’m not feeling, ‘maid of honor.’” Her attention moves back to Joel, grinning. “But best man sounds fucking cool. What do I do?”

Joel’s smiling, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Just gotta stand next to me and be my moral support. Unfortunately, I don’t have a ring for you to hold.”

“That’s fine,” she replies. “I can stand beside you—catch you if you faint, make sure you say your lines, oh! Offer you a handkerchief when you start crying like a baby.”

“You don’t have a handkerchief…”

“Or do I?”

“Do you?”

“Of course not. Where the fuck would I get a handkerchief? My plan if you become a blubbering mess is to just, like, wipe at your face with the sleeves of my sweater.” She holds up her arms to show her maroon zip-up hoodie that’s a little baggy on her.

“I’m not gonna cry…”

There’s a shift, her playful expression melting away, replaced with a soft look showing earnestness and trust, her voice a little quieter like she’s trying not to scare him away, “You know it’s okay if you do, right?” she asks. “I won’t think any less of you, Joel. This whole thing is really fucking exciting, and I’d expect some tears, so don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Okay,” he replies, the word coming out rougher.

“So,” she starts, looking around at the adults. “How is this going down? In the books I’ve read, there’s music and people walking down the aisle and shit.”

Tommy walks around everyone to stand in front of the podium, everyone turning to look at him. “They’ll be over here and stand in front of me, you next to Joel, and I’ll get this show on the road.”

“I’m sitting,” Maria says, taking a seat in the first pew, her hand resting on her belly.

Your head turns toward Joel, him meeting your eyes. “You ready?” he asks.

The nerves you felt earlier had disappeared, and now you’re just excited. Sure, you hadn’t envisioned Tommy Miller doing your wedding ceremony, but you know, without a doubt, he’ll do his best. Even with him being a pain in the ass sometimes, he’s always been a sweetheart who loves his brother dearly—loved his niece a whole lot, too—and he’ll go out of his way to make this special.

You smile, taking his hand. “Let’s get married,” you answer.

He gives you a beaming smile, and quickly you’re moving to where Tommy had indicated, you on his left and Joel on his right.

Ellie pats Joel on the back, hearing her whisper, ‘You got this,’ him twisting a little to say back, ‘Thanks, Ellie.

Tommy pulls out a piece of notebook paper from his back pocket with writing on both sides, unfolding it to read from, and you’re impressed that he put in so much thought. Your hands are in front of you, Joel holding them, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles, him smiling softly.

“Welcome, everyone,” Tommy starts, looking between you all and glancing at his notes. “Now, I’ve been to my fair share of weddings. They were all before everythin’ went to hell, and a lotta them started with how gettin’ married was the beginnin’ of some remarkable journey, yadda yadda yadda, you get the picture. That don’t quite work for Joel and Doc. No, their remarkable journey started in the summer of 2002, and I remember the day they met ‘cause Joel called me askin’ if I could come over the next day to hang out with Sarah since he asked his doctor out on a date—let me just tell y'all, I was confused as all get out ‘cause our doctor was a man in his 60s, with a bad combover, that was happily married, and I was under the impression, Joel was only attracted to women. My brother and I were raised that you love who you love—skin color, gender, none of that shit matters, which was pretty progressive for Texas. So, Joel tellin’ me he was goin’ on a date with his doctor, I thought he was comin’ out to me, and Joel, do you remember what I said?”

Joel snorts, replying, “‘Dr. Carlson’s a great guy. Where ya fellas goin’?”

You remember what Dr. Carlson looked like, which has you laughing hard with everyone else.

“That’s what I said,” Tommy continues, amused. “I was just happy my brother was goin’ on a date, didn’t care who with. He’d corrected me that it was a new doctor, and I’m not jokin’ when I say that Joel jabbered on and on about her for a solid hour, and I knew he had it bad. That was only the beginnin’ and after their first date? I knew he’d found the one.” Tommy looks at Joel. “I apologize for airin’ your personal business—” he went back to addressing everyone “—but Joel had bad luck with women, mostly ‘cause he went out with the wrong ones who didn’t much care for him havin’ a kid. But then he met Doc, who loved him, and his daughter, and I can tell y’all that Sarah—” Emotion is thick in his voice, already feeling tears starting to form in your eyes. “—woulda been happier than a hog in mud that they’re finally gettin’ hitched.” He’s fondly smiling. “I think her exact words would be, ‘Oh, thank god, took ya long enough.’” You and Joel chuckle, a tear falling down your cheek, his eyes watery, knowing he was hearing in his mind her saying those exact words just as you were. “Seein’ these two together,” Tommy kept speaking, “they just make sense. Aside from my wife, and I, I’ve never seen a more perfect couple—they complement and balance each other, and honestly, couldn’t have picked better partners. I only saw their relationship from the outside, but boy, could I feel their love; I can still feel it, and that love is what’s brought them here today. I don’t know that remarkable is the right word to describe their journey to get here—impossible seems more fittin’, and if there’s one thing they’ve shown me, it’s that soulmates exist.” Ellie scoffs, Tommy looking at her with a smile. “I know it’s cheesy, but hear me out. You familiar with Greek mythology?”

“No…?” she answers, and you’re wondering where he’s going with this.

“Myths are stories passed on by people that explain things about the world, like how it was created and such. Pretty much just people makin’ shit up and tellin’ each other until they thought it was true, but there’s this one I heard once about soulmates. It goes that when humans were created by Gods—the Greeks had more than one,” he clarifies, “they had four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. They weren’t fragile like we are now, they were pretty freakin’ powerful, and it made them fearless enough to challenge the Gods, and they sure didn’t care for that, so to take the humans down a peg, they were split into two, and were forced to spend their lives searchin’ for their other half. Sounds kinda familiar, right?” he asks her.

“Holy shit,” she breathes.

“Right? You’ve got these two who had a happy life together and were torn apart. I, uh—” Tommy audibly gulps “—didn’t know if Joel could live without her if I’m honest. They kept searchin’, ‘cause that’s how deep their love goes, just never stoppin’, and it took twenty goddamn years for them to find each other again, but they did—found their other halves, ‘cause they're meant to be together. So, us bein’ in this church today? It’s been a long time comin’ and marks the beginnin’ of a new chapter in their lives—one where they’re back together and finally gettin’ to live as husband and wife.” Tommy looks between you and Joel. “Before we get into it, I gotta thank you both. Even though I was jealous of what you have, it gave me a blueprint for what I wanted in a relationship.” He smiles softly. “Our story isn’t as crazy as yours, but I found it with Maria—she’s my soulmate.”

His wife starts booing from her seat, and everyone erupts in laughter. “This ain’t about us,” Maria teases. “You’re embarrassin’ me.”

“Sorry, honey, was just tellin’ the truth.”

“You can tell it later. Keep goin’.”

“Gotta listen to my wife,” he chuckles, looking at his paper quickly. “Does anyone object to this union? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Do people actually object?” Ellie asks. “What happens if they do?”

“Nothin’,” Joel answers, looking over his shoulder at her. “The person gets kicked out.”

You lean to the side to meet her eyes. “The objection part was for back before there were public records, so if there was a legitimate reason for the couple not to wed, like one of them was already married, someone with the knowledge would object, and the wedding would stop. In modern days, people who objected usually wanted to proclaim their love to the bride or groom.”

“That sounds really fucking awkward.”

“It was.”

You straighten, your attention back on Tommy as he starts speaking, “We are gathered here today to join these two in the union of marriage and celebrate their love. We all know the seriousness of the commitment bein’ entered and recognize that they have a truly special bond. Go ahead and look at each other; you’re gonna wanna remember this.”

Looking into Joel’s eyes, you take in the rich chocolate color and how they’re gleaming with unshed tears. There’s a pink tint to his cheeks, those grey waves of his combed back from his face, and his pouty lips turned up in a happy little smile, him looking so unbelievably handsome. There may be more lines on his face, signs that he’s aged, but staring at him in this moment, he still looks like the man you fell in love with all of those years ago, and you can see him, can perfectly picture that Joel having this same expression on his face.

“And now,” Tommy begins reading from what he’d written, “Joel, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to protect her, to comfort her, to share in the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, and whatever life might throw your way?”

“I do,” he answers so clearly, hearing how much he means the two words, and it makes you sniffle.

Tommy says your name, addressing you, “Do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to protect him, to comfort him, to share in the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, and whatever life might throw your way?”

“I do,” you reply with the same conviction as Joel, and he smiles, a tear falling down his face.

The other man’s attention is on Joel, “Joel, repeat after me, I, Joel Miller, take you—” He says your full name, “—to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and protect always, holdin’ unto you forevermore.”

Joel’s gaze is locked on yours, his voice thick as he repeats what Tommy told him to. Your lip is trembling, feeling so happy you want to cry.

“Doc, repeat after me,” Tommy starts, “I—” He uses your full name, “—take you, Joel Miller, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and protect always, holdin’ unto you forevermore.”

“—take you, Joel Miller, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and protect always, holding unto you forevermore.” He can hear the truth in every word you speak, knowing you mean them all, and it has warmth spreading through his veins, feeling like he might be floating with how happy he is.

You’re on the verge of tears, smiling at him, and looking so beautiful that he’s saving it to memory how you look at this very second, wanting to remember it always.

Tommy’s grinning. “By the power vested in me by some online church, I forgot the name of and the town of Jackson, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” He looks at Joel, clapping his hand on his shoulder. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Joel doesn’t need to be told twice, his hands moving up to cradle your jaw while he moves in, fusing his lips to yours in a searing kiss, ignoring the tears falling down both your cheeks. It’s a little wet, but he puts everything he’s got into kissing his wife for the first time.

His wife. He got you back, and now he’s married to you, and nothing else has felt more right in the world. You’re his wife.

He’s deepening the kiss, wanting you to feel his love, his happiness, his devotion, that the vows you made to each other are the real deal, and he meant every single one—he will live as your husband until the end of his days, following you even in death, loving you forever, doing everything he can to honor you, protecting you with his life, being there when you need comfort, happy to share whatever good times await you and be with you through the bad, knowing he’ll never leave your side in sickness and in health, and that you’re stuck with him no matter what life throws in your way, because like Tommy said, you’re meant to be together—went through literal hell to find each other, and he never wants to lose you again.

There might be some credence to the stuff his brother said about soulmates. When Joel lost you, it felt like he’d lost a chunk of himself, and having you back has filled that void.

“Is the kiss supposed last this long?” Ellie whispers to Tommy. “It’s like he’s eating her face.”

You must hear her with how you snort, breaking the kiss so you can giggle, Joel sighing, Tommy and Maria laughing.

“Sorry,” you apologize to him.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about,” he replies, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

“Let’s all hit the bar to celebrate,” Tommy says.

Joel nods at his brother, who starts walking over to his pregnant wife to help her up from her seat.

It just seems like the natural thing, Joel taking your hand as you both turn around toward the door, his attention moving to Ellie beside him.

“What’d ya think?” he asks her.

She smiles. “Disgustingly sappy, but I liked it. That soulmate shit was cool. I gotta do my best man duties—can you get down a little? You’re too fucking tall.”

Confused by her request, his eyebrows crease, but he slightly bends his knees. Ellie covers her hand with her maroon sleeve, pressing it to his left cheek, and it feels like his throat is going to close up that she’s wiping away the tear tracks. Her tongue is peeking out in concentration as she gets one cheek, then the other, giving him a once over and moving her head to get different angles, ensuring she gets all the wetness.

“Done!” she says, her arm dropping to her side. “How’s Doc’s face? Does she need me to help her out, too?”

He stands to his full height, his head swiveling your way and finding you’ve used your own sleeve to clean your face.

You lean past him to look at her. “I’m good, Ellie,” you reply with a smile. “Thank you, though.”

“No problem.”

The young girl is next to him as you leave the church, Tommy and Maria leading. His brother has an arm around his wife’s waist as they walk, and Joel’s holding your hand.

“So,” Ellie begins. “If we’re going to the bar, does that mean I get to have a celebratory drink, too..?”

“No,” all four of the adults say simultaneously.

“Geez, you guys are no fun.”

“There’s juice for you and me,” Maria replies, looking over her shoulder at the teen.

“Great,” Ellie grumbles, and it makes Joel smile.

The bar is how he remembers it from the last time he was here, except the mood is lighter this go around, and the place is just as empty as before.

“Holy shit!” Ellie exclaims, beelining for a corner. “Mortal Kombat?!”

He remembers how excited she’d been seeing the old arcade game when they’d stopped on their way to Bill and Frank’s. She said her friend knew everything about it, and Ellie seemed to love the character Mileena. She’s pressing the buttons and jerking the joystick. “Does it work?” she twists her body to ask.

You and Joel are standing with her while Tommy goes behind the bar, Maria taking a seat at a table near her husband.

“No,” Tommy replies, frowning. “Sorry, kid. We tried gettin’ it to run, but somethin’ in its fried. The jukebox works, though.” He points to the opposite corner where the machine sits. It was one from the 80s modeled after jukeboxes from the forties and fifties but updated to play CDs, with colorful lights glowing on the front. “There should be quarters in the bucket on that table by it.”

Ellie immediately went to it, the arcade game forgotten, hearing her clicking the button to flip through the track listings. The two of you headed for the bar, Tommy having set five glasses onto the bartop and was currently using an ice pick to break ice from a block.

“Tommy?” Maria calls.

“Yes, dear?” he answers, putting ice into each cup.

“Can you show ‘em what we got?”

“Yeah.” Tommy moves a few steps away to grab something, then sets it up next to the glasses.

On a plate sits a small round cake covered in white icing.

His brother is smiling. “She says ‘we,’ but it was really her,” Tommy confides in you both. “An olive branch, if you will.”

You’re turning to tell Maria, “Thank you. This was very thoughtful of you.”

The other woman waves away your words, replying, “It was nothin’. Can’t have a weddin’ without cake.”

“Well, thank you. We appreciate it.” You’re hugging Joel’s arm, looking up at him. “Right, Joel? We appreciate it very much.”

“That we do,” he responds, his head moving to look at the other woman. “Thank you, Maria.”

“You’re welcome, Joel.” She nods.

He doesn’t think they’ll ever be best friends, but she’s been friendlier this time around.

“I’ve never heard this song,” Ellie’s voice is loud as she speaks. “But based on the title, I’m pretty sure it’s how Joel feels about Doc.”

“What song?” he asks, both of you turning in place, looking in her direction.

“Gimme a second. I’m trying to figure out how to work this fuckin’ thing.” There’s the sound of her struggling, and before he can go help her, you’re already heading her way.

There’s a pull for him to walk over there, too, and he has to fight it to stay back, resting his side against the bartop with his arms crossed, watching from afar.

He glances at his brother to see him pouring drinks, putting what looks to be apple juice in two of them.

His attention goes back to you and Ellie, her pointing at what he assumes is a song, which makes you laugh, and him frown because he’s dying to know which one it is.

“You’re right on the money, squirt,” you tell Ellie as you show her how to use the jukebox.

A second later, the opening to “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” by The Police starts playing, Joel snorting and shaking his head as the lyrics run through his head, seeing how they are pretty accurate—every little thing you do is magic, and you’re always turning him on.

Something inside him soothes when you beckon him over, Joel quickly walking across the bar.

He’s in front of you, and you lean in so your lips are close to his ear, asking in a whisper for only him to hear, “Is your back okay?”

You’re pulling back, searching his face. His back isn’t bothering him at the moment, and he’s able to move around fine. “Yeah,” he answers.

A toothy smile appears on your face. “Dance with me, then,” you say. “Please.”

There’s an empty space in front of the jukebox that you’re standing in that must’ve been used as a small dancefloor. He feels heat licking up his neck because he hasn’t danced in years, and there’s an audience—Ellie watching off to the side with an amused look, Tommy with a matching expression over at the bar.

“Yeah, Joel,” Ellie ribs. “Dance with her.”

“Remember, Joel,” Tommy yells. “Happy wife, happy life!”

He sighs, gulping at your hopeful expression, not wanting to disappoint you. “Apologies in advance if I step on your toes, ma’am,” he says as he pulls you into his arms—a hand around your waist, the other holding your hand, while you’re grabbing his shoulder. He goes the safe route, starting to move you both in a swaying shuffle, you grinning at him with stars in your eyes that make his heart pick up in speed.

It’s not really a slow-dancing song. It’s too upbeat and moves too quickly. His heart is in his throat when the steps come back to him as if he’s riding a bicycle, you laughing softly when he begins leading you in quicker movements around the small space. He’s smiling at your glee when he throws in a spin here and there, knowing it amuses you, always pulling you back into his arms.

Ellie is standing by the jukebox with an expression on her face like she can’t believe what she’s seeing but is delighted by it anyway.

It’s reminding him of going out with you to the bar in Austin that did live music, having a few drinks, and you pulling him onto the dancefloor with the rest of the couples. With how happy you look, he thinks you’re remembering the same thing, the both of you just letting loose and having fun.

Fun.

When was the last time he got to have carefree fun like this? Sure, he and Ellie had some fun on the road, but he was always on alert and couldn’t let his guard down. Christ, he sure as hell wasn’t having any fun before the teenager came into his life.

That means the last time he got to enjoy himself like this was on his birthday, watching his favorite movie with Sarah while waiting for you to get off work. He hadn’t found it odd you were working at such a late hour that night since your clinic in the big city was open twenty-four hours, and there were times it was so busy you couldn’t call him until the end of your shift.

And here he is, having the best time dancing with you.

He’s taken aback by how normal this all feels. He woke up that morning with you beside him, in the new house you share, got married in a church, and is now celebrating in a bar with a cake, having drinks, and dancing to music as if outside the town walls, there isn’t desolation and unimaginable horrors.

How long can Jackson remain being this little oasis amongst the apocalyptic hellscape? How much time will he get in this bliss? Too many things have happened to him to think this will last—it’s too good to be true.

The song comes to an end, and he lowers you in a dip, causing you to giggle while Ellie claps.

Pulling you back up, you grab his face and kiss him, Joel losing himself in the sensation of your lips on his, feeling you smiling.

He focuses on you in his arms and your mouth on his, grounding him and pulling him from the darkness of his thoughts, giving him hope.

Joel will do whatever he can to help keep this town safe. It’s a new beginning for the three of you; Ellie can have a somewhat normal life and get to be a kid, you can relax, and the two of you can settle down together, hopefully living out the rest of your many years here.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” you say when you pull back, taking him from his thoughts.

“Any time,” he replies, smiling.

There’s a possibility you might explode from how happy you are.

You’re married to Joel. He’s your husband.

Staring into those big brown eyes of his, a sweet smile on his lips, you start speaking, “I need you to do something for me.”

His eyebrows dip together. “Anythin’,” he responds, rubbing his big hands over your arms.

“I need you to pinch me—I’ve gotta make sure I’m not dreaming and you’re really here with me.”

The expression on his face melts into something soft. His hand dips down to pinch your hip, his other one caressing the side of your face. “There,” he says. “Believe I’m here now, baby?”

Tears spring to your eyes, grinning as you crash your mouth to his, kissing him desperately, your hands wrapping around his neck.

“I suddenly want juice,” Ellie announces to no one in particular. “So, I’m gonna go get some, so I don’t have to see this. Seriously, guys. Gross.”

Her comment has you breaking apart from Joel, giggling as you face her.

“Sorry, Ellie,” you tell her, seeing her face pinched in disgust. “We did warn you about the excessive PDA.”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Still gross. I mean, who wants to see their… their… their.”

“Dad?” you finish for her.

“He’s not my dad.” It’s said almost like a reflex, and you can see fear in her eyes.

She’s like a wounded animal, and you’re going to need to be careful. You close the distance slowly; it’s only a couple of steps.

Joel’s moved beside you, and you’re surprised when he speaks, his voice low so only the three of you can hear. “It’s okay,” he says, her gaze on him. It takes him a second to figure out his next words, and he looks away with his hands perched on his hips. “That shit I said last time we were here? I was lyin’.” He sighs. “Thought if I said it out loud, it’d be true.” He meets her eyes. “You can, uh, call me whatever you’d like—caretaker, guardian, ward, Dad. ‘Cause—” he audibly swallows. “—I think of you as my kid,” he says softly. “You’re not cargo. Never were. You’re family. My family.”

“You’re my family, too.” Her voice is quiet, looking hopeful. “Feels weird calling you, Dad, though—” She points at him “—you’re Joel.”

He smiles. “Then keep callin’ me, Joel,” he reassures. “If people ask, can I say you’re my…?”

“Daughter?” she finishes for him, smiling. “Sure.” Ellie shrugs. “And you’re my father, but—” She looks around like she’s making sure no one is listening, saying conspiratorially, “—I’m pretty sure I’m adopted.”

He snorts. “That was stupid.”

She grins. “I thought it was pretty funny, Dad.” She makes a face. “Oh, yeah, that’s fucking weird—no offense,” she adds quickly.

“None taken.”

Her eyes dart away. “I’m glad you brought me here,” she says. “And that I’ve got you—both of you now.”

“Yeah, I’m happy you’re here, too, and Ellie?”

“Yeah, Joel?” They look at each other.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Okay?”

“Okay.” She nods. “That juice sure sounds good,” she says a bit louder, making you smile because Joel hadn’t been lying that they’re both terrible at expressing their feelings to one another.

“Let’s go, kid,” he replies.

She’s already moving toward the bar, and you take his hand, both of you mosying your way over.

“Congratulations, Joel,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“It’s a fourteen-year-old girl.”

He chuckles. “What can I say?” he whispers back. “I’m a girl Dad.”

“Yes, you are.”

Taking seats at the bartop, Joel is between you and Ellie, Tommy placing drinks in front of each of you before walking out from behind the bar to take Maria her juice, holding his own glass.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Joel Miller!” Tommy toasts.

Everyone raises their glasses before taking a drink.

It’s whiskey—actual facts whiskey, and not moonshine, it sliding down your throat smoothly, relishing the burn. This was quality shit from before the outbreak that was extremely hard to find.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, staring at the glass. “This is the real fucking deal.”

“We save it for special occasions,” Tommy replies. “But we also have shit we’ve made.”

“Thank you for letting us have some,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I haven’t had a decent drink in years.”

“You’re welcome, Doc.” He holds his cup up to you.

Joel sets his glass down, you taking another drink.

His arm goes around your waist, his other hand scratching at the back of his neck, and you can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say.

He keeps his eyes forward. “I just wanna thank y’all for makin’ today real special for us,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear. “It means a lot to us havin’ ya here.”

“Psh—” Ellie playfully punches his arm. “—like I’d miss my chance at seeing you so happy it makes you cry, and I wasn’t disappointed.”

“Yeah…”

“We ain’t done celebratin’!” Tommy exclaims. “There are gifts.”

You and Joel are turning in your seats to look at his brother.

“What are you talking about?” you ask. “You’ve done more than enough. The house, the beautiful ceremony, the cake, this booze. We can’t accept anything else.”

“Yeah, Tommy,” Joel adds. “We don’t need anythin’ else.”

“Oh, quit it,” he replies, walking back behind the bar. “Let us spoil ya today. You sure as fuck deserve it.” He’s leaning down to grab something behind the bar and coming back up, keeping his hands low so you can’t see what he’s got. “This first gift is from Maria and me.”

“Why are you lyin’ to them?” his wife asks. “That gift is all you—I got the cake.”

“‘Cause we’re married.” He sounds exasperated.

“That one’s too damn special, it’s solely from Tommy, and I had nothin’ to do with it.”

He sighs.

“This first gift is from me,” he says, the last word a little louder. “And only me.”

“We read you loud and clear,” you reply. “I am dying to know what it is.”

He looks a little unsure as he speaks, “Well, now that y’all are here together, I’m hopin’ you’ll want them.” Two Polaroid pictures are placed between you and Joel, both having faded a little over time, your breath catching in your throat, covering your mouth with a hand.

The first one is of Joel and Sarah making silly faces at the camera—him with his hair still brown and his face less worn from age. You’ve worried that over time your memory of what Sarah looks like had decayed, but here she is with her dad’s eyes, her beautiful smile, and her head full of curly hair, just as you remember.

You’re reaching out to touch the second photo of the three of you on her fourteenth birthday at Joel’s house. You’ve got your arms around her, Sarah resting her head on your shoulder, Joel hugging you both from behind, all three of you smiling at the camera.

“I, uh, told Joel this last time I saw him,” Tommy starts. “But I went back to the house some years ago. Place was picked clean—found those, though.” He points at them. “Kept one of her and me—hope that’s alright.”

Joel’s voice is thicker from emotion, “Of course it’s alright,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you, Tommy,” you add.

“You’re welcome.”

“Look at her,” you murmur.

“Just like I remember,” he whispers. “God, I miss that smile.”

“I do, too.”

“Can I see this one?” he asks, pointing at the one with the three of you.

“Yeah.” You move your hand to pick up the other, him taking the one he wanted gingerly between his fingers.

He stares at it for a second before showing it to Ellie. “This is Sarah,” he says to her. “My other daughter. I just know she would’ve liked you. Not that I think you’re the same. Definitely different kids, but still mine.”

“How are we different?” she asks.

“Well, she was a lot more, I wanna say girly?” He’s quickly adding, “And I’m not sayin’ that you’re not girly...”

She snorts. “I’m not.”

Joel smiles crookedly, “Yeah, you’re not. So that. She was taller. She had that killer smile.” His eyes widen, worry on his face, speaking fast, “Again, not sayin’ you don’t...”

“Chill out, Joel,” she laughs, him visibly relaxing. “She did have a killer smile. You really think she’d like me?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “You’d get on like a house on fire. She would’ve liked you ‘cause you’re funny. I think you would’ve made her laugh,” he answers thoughtfully. “The two of you love music—she had a small CD collection she would’ve liked showin’ you. And I know together you would’ve had too much fuckin’ fun givin’ me shit. Can picture you gangin’ up on me,” he chuckles. “She would’ve liked you a whole helluva a lot, and I bet you would’ve liked her back.”

“Yeah, I think I would’ve,” she replies. “Sarah sounds really fucking cool.”

He’s softly smiling, looking at the picture. “Yeah, she was the coolest.” His head swivels in her direction, “Not sayin’ you’re not cool—you’re really fuckin’ cool, too. The two of you are way cooler than me.”

She’s laughing. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” she says. “It’s okay, and it doesn’t take much to be cooler than your old ass.”

“Yeah,” Tommy speaks up, Joel and Ellie looking at him, smirking. “Sarah would’ve found you hilarious, and y’all would’ve had a blast terrorizin’ the fuck outta this asshole.” He nods his head toward Joel.

“God, Joel’s right,” you add. “They would’ve ganged up on him, just a constant Joel roast.”

“It’s already a constant Joel roast…” Joel grumbles.

Rubbing his arm, you reply, “But it’s done affectionately.”

“I guess,” he sighs.

“There’s one more gift for ya,” Tommy says.

You’re staring him down, telling him, “Tommy, the pictures are more than enough—way more than enough. We can’t accept anything else. We won’t.” You shake your head.

“She’s right,” Joel cuts in. “You’ve given us too much. There’s no fuckin’ way we can ever repay you.”

“This gift isn’t from me,” Tommy responds with a little smile. “It ain’t from Maria either.”

“Then who’s it from?” Joel asks, confusion on his face.

You’re wondering the same thing. There’s no one else in Jackson you know.

“Ellie.” He points at her, both of you turning your heads to look at her, you having to lean around Joel.

“Hey.” She puts up her hands in defense. “Tommy helped!” She points at him. “Told me I could pick out a gift for you guys, and we went around to a bunch of places last night looking at shit, and I saw something I thought you might like, but it’s probably super fucking lame, so if you wanna trade it, go for it. I have no fucking clue what to get people when they get married.”

“Hey, don’t stress,” you reply, giving her a reassuring smile. “We’re gonna love it.”

“Yeah.” Joel smiles, knocking his shoulder against hers. “We’ll love anythin’ you got us.”

She looks unsure. “I hope so.”

“What’d you get us?” you ask.

Her attention moves to Tommy.

“Is it back there?” she asks him.

“Yep,” he answers.

Ellie jumps off her barstool, walking around the bar, to lean down and grab something that seems big, but you can’t see since it’s so low, her moving back toward you both.

When she’s in sight, your eyes go wide, realizing it’s a black hardshell guitar case.

There’s pink on her cheeks, holding it out to Joel, looking down at her feet. “When, um, we were on our way to Salt Lake City, you, um, said you wanted to find a guitar?” she says it as a question. “Said you hadn’t played in forever and that you’d teach me. Which you don’t have to,” she quickly adds. “But, um, I figured if you used to play, you probably played for Doc and Sarah, and she’d maybe wanna hear you again, so a guitar, for your wedding or whatever.”

“It’s perfect,” he chokes out, and you can see his eyes glistening as he gently takes it from her. “Thank you, Ellie. I, uh, didn’t think you’d remember all that.”

She meets his eyes. “I do. Remember a lot of it. So, there you go.” She’s wringing her hands in front of her, Joel carefully setting the guitar against the bar and getting up from his chair to stand in front of her.

“Would it be alright if I hugged you?” he asks softly.

“Sure.”

He’s slow in his movements, not going too quick as he wraps his arms around her, one behind her back, the other hand cradling the back of her head, resting her cheek on his shoulder. Her own arms go around his middle, his chin nestled atop her hair.

A father holding his last living child, a daughter being held by the only parent she’s known, a comfort they’ve both needed and something to cherish.

“Thank you, baby girl,” he whispers.

This seems like a private moment, averting your eyes, Tommy doing the same.

“I’m happy you’re, uh, better,” he continues.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” she says just as softly.

“Never in a million years, I… care about you too damn much.”

“I care about you, too.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

They stay like that for seconds longer before separating, his hands on her shoulders.

“I think I promised I’d sing for you,” he tells her with a warm smile. “I apologize if I’m a bit rusty.”

“I didn’t save the world.”

“There’s still time, kiddo.” He moves back over to the black case to open it up, pulling out the mahogany acoustic guitar, its sides stained black, him admiring it. “Well, isn’t she a beauty.”

“You gonna play the thing or take it out on a date?” Ellie asks, making you giggle.

Joel’s eyes narrow at her, him moving to sit on the barstool with the guitar resting on his thighs.

“Gimme a second,” he replies, strumming his fingers over the strings, it clearly out of tune. “I gotta fix it.” His eyebrows are creased in concentration as he turns each peg to adjust the pitch of the strings until he’s satisfied, nodding his head when he strums, and it sounds right.

He’s not playing any particular song, just reacquainting himself with the chords, doing little melodies to get back into it.

Tommy walks out from behind the bar to go sit next to Maria at her little table, his arm over the back of her chair, while nursing his drink with his other hand, both of them watching Joel in interest.

Since Joel was a child, he’s been passionate about music. By the time he turned seven, he was playing guitar, and as an adult, he was so good that he only needed to hear a song once to know how to play it.

“Promise me you won’t laugh,” he says to Ellie while still playing.

She’s smiling, replying, “I won’t.”

He gives her a look.

“I won’t, I promise,” she says.

He nods his head.

“I’m trustin’ you.”

It makes sense that only after some minutes, he seems to have the hang of it, things sounding smoother, and you grin when he moves into a familiar tune—the steady rhythm with the twang as he plucks the strings, excitement bubbling in your belly over what was about to happen.

He’s focused on the guitar, his voice a deep, throaty rasp, as he starts crooning the beginning of “Stand by Me” by Ben E. King.

Tears are back in your eyes, feeling emotional that he’s playing your song.

This was the first song he’d ever played for you all those years ago, the song you’d ask him to play again and again because of how much you loved it, the song you thought would play while you shared your first dance after saying ‘I do,’ the song you could imagine him singing to your children.

And here he is, playing the guitar for the first time in over twenty years, and this is the song he’s chosen to sing, knowing how much it’d mean to you.

Joel Miller is the love of your life, has always been the love of your life, and now you get to call him your husband.

She’s honestly surprised that he’s not bad—kind of reminds her of the singer from Pearl Jam, but, like, if he were Texan and his voice was a bit deeper.

God, she misses her Walkman so fucking much, she’d kill to hear “Take on Me” again. Wait, maybe Joel knows it, and he could play it for her. She’ll have to ask him when he finishes with this song.

It’s crazy to her that this time last year, she’d been in FEDRA school, getting up to shit with Riley, and now she’s across the country, in a small town that fucking works with her—Jesus, it’s even fucking weird to think about calling him her Dad—Joel, he’s her Joel, it’ll take some time to ease into the name change. Anyways, she’s now here with Joel and Doc, who’s honestly a great addition to their team.

If anyone deserves to be reunited with their one true love like he’s living a fucking fairytale, it’s Joel, and Ellie is so fucking relieved that Doc is actually pretty great; she’s more than pretty great, actually. Doc is fucking awesome and has always been honest with her, so she knows that when Doc told her she’d try to figure out a cure, she was telling the truth, and that gives Ellie hope that she might actually get a chance at saving the world after all.

Everything she’s gone through, all of the people who’ve died for her, it all needs to fucking mean something. It has to.

Ellie’s happy for Joel and Doc, she really is, and she’ll never admit it out loud, but she’s scared. Not that, like, Joel will forget about her now that he has a wife. No, they care about her too much, and that’s what scares her.

For the first time in her entire fucking life, she has a family—Joel, Doc, even Tommy, and Maria—she has people who give a shit about her and love her. Joel wants her to call him ‘Dad,’ he thinks of himself as her father, and she sees herself as his daughter, and now there’s Doc, too, who’s so warm and comforting, and fuck, what if something happens to them? What if she loses them like she’s lost every other person who’s ever given a fuck about her? This time last year, she had Riley, and now Riley’s dead, and not only that, but Ellie’s the one that had to kill her.

A year and so much has changed.

What if she loses all of this?

She told Sam she’s afraid of ending up alone, but really she’s frightened of outliving the people who care about her, and now there are so many.

She just has to remind herself that Joel is the strongest man on the entire fucking planet. He got her across the country, basically came back from the dead, and took out a hospital full of Fireflies—they’re not in danger here in Jackson, and if they were? Joel will keep her and Doc safe, she’s positive about that, and Ellie will help, she can hold her own, and she’s not going to let anyone else die for her.

They’re safe.

Everything is going to be okay. Joel will make sure of it.

The song finishes, and he sighs, not looking at her as he asks, “Well?”

“Well, that didn’t suck,” she replies, smiling. “I’m honestly impressed ‘cause I figured you’d be fucking terrible, but you weren’t. You were pretty good.”

He looks at her with big eyes and a little smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nods her head.

“You still got it, babe,” Doc says.

He turns to look at her with a grin. “Yeah?” he asks her.

“Yep.” She smiles back. “You had me swooning—you know how much I love that song.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replies in a different tone that has Ellie making a face.

Jesus, they’re so gross, and now they’re kissing—of course, they are. She’s pretty sure they can’t go five fucking minutes without their lips locked.

Her attention moves to Tommy and Maria, who aren’t much better sitting close together fucking canoodling.

Disgusting.

She’s got the ick.

“Cake sure sounds really fucking good right about now,” she says loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Hell yeah, it does,” Tommy replies, getting up from his chair. “I’ve got plates and shit.” He’s walking back behind the bar.

Joel and Doc have unlocked their lips, thank god.

“Joel?” she asks.

He meets her eyes. “Yeah?”

“This is probably a long fucking shot, but there’s this band I loved called A-ha? Listened to the tape on my Walkman all the time, and they had this song called “Take On Me.” Do you know it?”

He smiles. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

He’s already playing the beginning, the familiar melody making Ellie smile so big she thinks her cheeks are gonna hurt.

Yeah, everything is gonna be okay, and her life has never been better.

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